Gay Adjacent Quotes

That stream, Arthur,’ said the elder traveller, as with one consent they stopped to gaze on such a scene as I have described, ‘resembles the life of a good and a happy man.’ ‘And the brook, which hurries itself headlong down yon distant hill, marking its course by a streak of white foam,’ answered Arthur,—‘what does that resemble?’ ‘That of a brave and unfortunate one,’ replied his father. ‘The torrent for me,’ said Arthur; ‘a headlong course which no human force can oppose, and then let it be as brief as it is glorious’.... This stream, by a devious and gentle course, which seemed to indicate a reluctance to leave this quiet region, found its way at length out of the sequestered domain, and, like a youth hurrying from the gay and tranquil sports of boyhood into the wild career of active life, finally united itself with the boisterous torrent, which, breaking down tumultuously from the mountains, shook the ancient Tower of Geierstein as it rolled down the adjacent rock, and then rushed howling through the defile in which our youthful traveller had well-nigh lost his life.

Passing by the Stonewall Inn—a bar he despised, insistent it was a haven for marauding chicken hawks—Jim noticed a cluster of cops in front of the bar, looking as if they were about to enter. He shrugged it off as just another routine raid, and even found himself hoping that this time (Stonewall had been raided just two weeks before) the police would succeed in closing the joint. But as Jim got closer, he could see that a small group of onlookers had gathered. That was somewhat surprising, since the first sign of a raid usually led to an immediate scattering; typically, gays fled rather than loitered, and fled as quietly and as quickly as possible, grateful not to be implicated at the scene of the “crime.” Jim spotted Craig Rodwell at the top of the row of steps leading up to a brownstone adjacent to the Stonewall Inn. Craig looked agitated, expectant. Something was decidedly in the air.