Jeff Lindsay Quotes - Page 2

Dying makes everyone weaker, subject to painful insight, and not always insight into any kind of special truth - it's just the approaching end that makes people want to believe they are seeing something in the line of a great revelation.

It’s like, everything really is two ways, the way we all pretend it is and the way it really is

That's why I liked him, I think. Another guy pretending to be human, just like me.

And so as much as I can, I care about her, dear Deborah. It's probably not love, but I would rather she were happy.

Life teaches us that human thought almost never walks hand in hand with logic, and it is usually counterproductive to raise the point.

you can’t use logic on human behavior.

Killing makes me feel good.

It's that moon again, slung so fat and low in the tropical night, calling out across a curdled sky and into the quivering ears of that dear old voice in the shadows, the Dark Passenger, nestled snug in the backseat of the Dodge K-car of Dexter's hypothetical soul. That rascal moon, that loudmouthed leering Lucifer, calling down across the empty sky to the dark hearts of the night monsters below, calling them away to their joyful playgrounds.

What a terrible thing life can be.

And as always seems to happen when I have reached the point where I am ready to take decisive action, everything began to happen at once.

It's always me, isn't it? I'm not really a very nice person, but for some reason it's always me that they come to with their problems.

Mutilated corpses with a chance of afternoon showers. I got dressed and went to work.

In its own way the kiss had been an act of murder.

The mind picks some very bad times to take a walk doesn't it?

Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?

Since I am not actually a real human being, my emotional responses are generally limited to what I have learned to fake.

…a cheerful black shadow reared up behind him as he spoke, thundering a happy challenge to my Dark Passenger, which slid forward and bellowed back.

It happens; incompetence is rewarded more often than not.

They like to tell us that it is important to speak the truth, but it has been my experience that real happiness lies in having people tell you what you want to believe, usually not the same thing at all, and if you have to stub your toe on the truth later, so be it.

When faced with people who have very limited conversational skills and no apparent desire to cultivate any it's always easier to simply go along.

As I've said, freedom is really an illusion. Anytime we think we have a real choice, it just means we haven't seen the shotgun aimed at our navel.

It really is better to be lucky than to be good.

I am unlovable...I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing and sooner or later the other person catches me Acting or one of Those Nights comes along.

I rose to my knees, mouth dry and heart pounding, and paused to finger a rip in my beautiful Dacron bowling shirt. I pushed my fingertip through the hole and wiggled it at myself. Hello, Dexter, where are you going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I don't know, but I'm almost there. I hear my friends calling.

I really am guilty, of many somethings, all of them lethal and very enjoyable and technically not quite legal.