Quotes from John Rechy

The invitation to rot obliviously, to die without feeling it, to grow old looking young, is everywhere in this glorious, sunny, multi-colored city.

It's that magnificent interlude in New York between winter and spring, when you feel the warmth stirring, and you remember that the dreadful naked trees will inevitably sprout tiny green buds, soon. Everyone rushes into the parks, the streets--and you even forget that, very soon , summer will come scorchingly, dropping from the sky like a blanket of steam...

I think the camouflage of fiction allows more authenticity – you know, acknowledging that it is a 'fiction', a terrific lie, and that you want it to be believed.

Because it's getting to be the blue hour, and that's the time when everything is revealed.

The Ethereal Angels—these are the artists, the poets, the dancers. .

All true? I think autobiographers are big liars.

You can rot here without feeling it.

People die when they see life at last without Illusions. For some, it takes many, many years; for others, much less. And so each of us commits suicide: when we will our own deaths: That is the only Death.

Hoods, hobos, hustlers, homosexuals. Hunting.

He had made much the same protest against the unfairness of the labels thrust at that world—a protest echoed over and over in that life . Ã¢â'¬Â¦

It's possible to hate the filthy world and still love it with an abstract pitying love.

even the heart rebels-finally against its own anarchy. And that's the most powerful rebellion.

The quavering, sensual voice of Elvis Presley is coming from the juke-box in lonesome, sad, sustained, orgasmic moans: The bell-hop's tears keep flowing The desk clerk's dressed in black. Ã¢â'¬Â¦

Just the absence of loneliness. That's love enough.