#useramaya

— “she can’t believe jane had the nerve, the audacity, to become the one thing august can’t resist: a mystery.”

“it's not the world that's cruel," neil said. "it's the people in it.”

Put your chin on my shoulder, love. Climb under the quilt. Remind me what joy feels like. You do it every day, darling - shouldn’t be too troublesome for you.

thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, i guess. and you too. i kinda wish people still wrote like that.

I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen, and I had better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

It is true that I have my young king who genuinely adores me. You cannot form an idea of our relations. I recall one of the dreams of my youth. I once dreamed that Shakespeare was alive: that I really saw and spoke to him: I can never forget the impression that dream made on me. Then I would have wished to see Beethoven, though he was already dead. Something of the same kind must pass in the mind of this lovable man when with me. He says he can hardly believe that he really possesses me. None can read without astonishment, without enchantment, the letters he writes to me.

November 4th, 1986. Happy Wednesday, Andrew.

Like countless other Americans, I was afraid to say this out loud because of what the consequences might be. To you, specifically, I say: I see you. I am one of you. As long as I have a place in this White House, so will you. I am the First Son of the United States, and I’m bisexual. History will remember us.