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“Gay kids aren’t a “plot point�� that you can play with. Gay kids are real, actual kids, teenagers, growing up into awesome adults, and they don’t have the books they need to reflect that. Growing up, my nose was constantly stuck in a book. Growing up as a lesbian, I was told over and over and over by the lack of gayness in said books that I did not exist. That I wasn’t important enough to tell stories about. That I was invisible. Why are we telling our kids this? Why are we telling them that they’re a minority, and they don’t deserve the same rights as straights, that they’re going to grow up in a world that despises them, that the intolerance of humanity will never change, that they’re worthless. It’s not true.”
― Sarah Diemer

“Don't judge yourself by what others did to you.”
― C. Kennedy, �ѳ��ǰ����

“I know! It means when two boys are really happy ‘cause they love each other.�� She laughed. He wasn’t certain whether to laugh along with her—or cry.”
― Alex Sanchez, Rainbow Boys

“There are countless reasons for reading, but when you’re young and uncertain of your identity, of who you may be, one of the most compelling is the quest to discover yourself reflected in the pages of a book.”
― Michael Cart

“I studied how to use the clothes washer. The handy instructions on the lid helped; so did the box of suds. It instructed me to separate the whites from the coloreds. Laundry will be the last American institution to desegregate.”
― Huston Piner

“Thereafter, they met up at off times, after practices or on the terrace of the pavilion when nightly feasts were breaking up, in what Aerander gradually recognized as a romance, though he wondered at times if it was possible for him to have such luck or, rather, if he was misinterpreting things; it was so hard to tell with boys. He accepted Calyiches' ring in a soft and private moment, nuzzling behind a garden trellis; it came as naturally as laying his head on Calyiches' shoulder. They were bonded. Two boys in love.”
― Andrew J. Peters, The Seventh Pleiade

“The memories were strange clingy things like burrs knotted in his hair. He could choose to let them be, he only felt them when he pulled them, and he could pretend they weren't there like positioning his head on a pillow so as not to notice the lumps against his scalp. But amidst the commotion of the parade—a strange cocoon—he recalled things sharply. He had a part in Dam leaving the palace, and ever since that point, his best friend was headed down a dangerous path.”
― Andrew J. Peters, The Seventh Pleiade