Buy a summer home in Majorca with the turkey...

They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side.

Alex forgets, momentarily, about the pancakes and everything else, not because he wants to do absolutely filthy things to Henry maybe even with the apron still on but because he loves him, and isn't that wild, to know that that's what makes the filthy things so good.

It's Henry's voice, sweet and posh and shaky and confused, and relief knocks the wind out of him.'

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker. 'He's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.' Sweetheart, you're proof too.

Every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with, whom the American people will hold beside them in hearts and memories and history books. America: He is my choice.

I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us.

The next slide is titled: 'Exploring your sexuality: Healthy, but does it have to be with the Prince of England?' She apologizes for not having time to come up with better titles. Alex actively wishes for the sweet release of death.

The turkeys are not going to Jurassic Park you,” he says. “You’re not the bloke from Seinfeld. You’re Jeff Goldblum. Go to sleep.

Everything was put in a specific place for a reason. Everything has a meaning, an intention.