“We got into the car. It was my first time. The car was spotless and I liked its smell, the smell of… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Oliver looked at me, meaning, Did you like it? I shrugged my shoulders, like someone reserving judgment for later. But I was… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I liked how our minds seemed to travel in parallel, how we instantly inferred what words the other was toying with but… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Oliver: I knew I was making you uncomfortable, but I just had to make sure. Elio: So you knew all this time?… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I like doing things for you, will do anything for you, just say the word, I liked you from day one, and… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“I wanted it to remain, that he might actually like me, and that he liked me in just the way I liked… — André Aciman Copy Share Image
“Because everyone liked him, I had to say I liked him too. I was like men who openly declare other men irresistibly… — 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
