“I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like.”

“I can tell you what I see. I can tell you what I know about you. I can tell you how I feel. I can’t show you what you really are. But arguing with you won’t accomplish anything. I think we’ve both had our share of people trying to fix us. It doesn’t work. We can only fix ourselves. Let ourselves heal.”

“I know I can't tell you what it's like to be gay. But I can tell you what it's not. It's not hiding behind words, Mama. Like family and decency and Christianity.”

“I always say that you cannot tell what a picture really is or what an object really is until you dust it every day and you cannot tell what a book is until you type it or proof-read it. It then does something to you that only reading it never can do.”

“I am not trying to seduce you."I know that. But please, Mrs. Robinson. This is difficult for me.""Why is it," she said"Because I am confused about things. I can't tell what I'm imagining. I can't tell what's real. I can't --""Would you like me to seduce you?""What?""Is that what you're trying to tell me?”

“I can't imagine what they're planning. But I can tell you two things. We won't like it, and it won't be legal.”