“Whatever happened to gay rage? Remember the bar brawl brashness of Stonewall? Police cars toppled and lit on fire after Toronto’s bathhouse raids? When younger homosexuals get nostalgic for the heady days of gay lib, they oughtn’t yearn so much for the unfettered drug-taking and unprotected sex. They should long to be mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. I still maintain that if you lift the lid off any queer, you’ll find a cauldron full of seething rage hidden inside. Left unchecked, it will simmer endlessly as a soup of self-loathing, or reduce to a thick stew of bitterness.”

“I’ll tell you straight up: That boy whupped my tail. He’s 210 pounds, [I’m] 155; that ain’t no excuse because I’m pure steel from the steel mill, you know. And I thought I was gonna whup Coby, you know. I’m thinkin’ in my head, this is a gay hairdresser, he’s feminine, I’m gonna whup his tail; I’m a steel-mill worker. That boy, he’s got some tail, I’m tellin’ ya.”