“Blue: the afternoon he stepped into my room from the balcony, the day he massaged my shoulder, or when he picked up… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Kiss me now, before it’s totally gone,” I said. His mouth would taste of peaches and me.” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I looked at him: I want one more kiss. I should, could, have seized him. By the next morning, things became officially… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“He pressed me against the wall and started to kiss me, his hips pushing into mine, his arms about to lift me… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I hadn’t a hope left. And maybe I stared back because there wasn’t a thing to lose now. I stared back with… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I wanted him to remember the morning on Monet's berm when I'd kissed him not the first but the second time and… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“He kissed me on the mouth, but it wasn't the kiss after the Pasquino, when he'd pressed me hard against the wall… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Then he kissed me, and kissed me again, deeply this second time, as if he too was finally letting go. At some… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I want you as intermezzo. So I said, I want you as both, or as in between. “He seemed taken aback. “Naughty,… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“He remembered and instantly moaned his own name three times, as we’d done during that night. I could feel myself already getting… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“He stood still, dropped his hand with the bundle of unsent letters still in it, and simply stood there staring at me,… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I put his pillow over my face, kissed it savagely, and, wrapping my legs around it, told it what I lacked the… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I already told you, I’m okay.” “Did I tell you I was okay too?” “Yes.” He smiled. I looked away, because he… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I didn’t have any time left, because he brought his lips to my mouth, a warm, conciliatory, I’ll-meet-you-halfway-but-no-further kiss till he realized… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I reached for him and let my hand rest on his crotch. He did not move. I should have slipped my hand… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“And yes, there was such a luster in his eyes that I had to look away, and when I looked back at… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Don't all writers have a hidden nerve, call it a secret chamber, something irreducibly theirs, which stirs their prose and makes it tick and… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“I wanted him to remember the morning on Monet's berm when I'd kissed him not the first but the second time and given him… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Rituals are how we step into our private field of dreams, a small Elysium all our own. Rituals are made not just for us,… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“I desperately wanted to give him something. By contrast, taking seemed so bland, so facile, so mechanical.” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
Proust is interested in minutiae because life, as he sees it, is seldom ever about things but about our impression of things, not about… — Andre Aciman Copy Share Image
“Well, since you're not going to do anything with me—can you at least read me a story? I'd settle for that. I wanted him… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“This is heaven.” And I wouldn’t hear him say another word for at least an hour. There was nothing I loved more in life… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“He loved the sticky taste. What had I done? I told him and pointed to the bruised evidence sitting on my desk. “Let me… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“When had they separated us, you and me, Oliver? And why did I know it, and why didn't you?” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“As we were swimming back, he asked as though it were an afterthought, “Are you going to hold last night against me?” — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“To be with you. To be with you, Oliver. With or without my bathing suit. To be with you on my bed. In your… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
