Jeff Lindsay Quotes
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Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?
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The whole point of wearing a disguise was to be seen wearing her.
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Feeling - what authentic human fun!
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Now I know what it is like to feel like a total idiot.
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Weren't we all crazy in our sleep? What was sleep, after all, but the process by which we dumped our insanity into a dark subconscious pit and came out on the other side ready to eat cereal instead of our neighbor's children?
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In that tremendous flash of freedom, on my way to do The Thing for the first time, sanctioned by Almighty Harry, I receded, faded back into the scenery of my own dark self, whole the other me crouched and growled. I would do It at last, do what I had been created to do. And I did.
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Happily for me, ninety-nine percent of all human life is spent simply repeating the same old actions, speaking the same tired clichés, moving like a zombie through the same steps of the dance we plodded through yesterday and the day before and the day before. It seems horribly dull and pointless-but it really makes a great deal of sense. After all, if you only have to follow the same path every day, you don't need to think at all. Considering how good humans are at any mental process more complicated than chewing, isn't that the best for everybody?
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Why bother inflicting enormous pain on yourself when sooner or later Life would certainly get around to doing it for you?
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It's terrible to have to depend on someone else.
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Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake it all. I fake it very well, and the feelings are never there.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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In its own way the kiss had been an act of murder.
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It’s like, everything really is two ways, the way we all pretend it is and the way it really is
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Have you noticed how difficult it is just to get along in the world? If you're no good at all in your job, people treat you badly and eventually you will be unemployed. And if you're a little better than competent, everyone expects miracles from you, every single time. Like most of life, it's a no-win situation. And if you dare to mention it, no matter how creatively you phrase your complaints, you are shunned as a whiner.
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Rectory always sounded to me like a place where you would find a proctologist.
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...being torn apart by far too many loyalties that could not possibly live together in the same brain.
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A man who discovers his pants are on fire tends to have very little time to worry about somebody else's box of matches
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I don't do my job to catch the bad guys. Why would I want to do that? No, I do my job to make order out of chaos.
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It’s an odd term, 'girlfriend,' particularly for grown persons. And in practice it provides an even odder concept. Generally speaking, in adults it described a woman, not a girl, who was willing to provide sex, not friendship. In fact, from what I had observed it was quite possible for one to actively dislike one’s girlfriend, although of course true hatred is reserved for marriage.
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IN MY LIFELONG STUDY OF HUMAN BEINGS, I HAVE FOUND that no matter how hard they might try, they have found no way yet to prevent the arrival of Monday morning. And they do try, of course, but Monday always comes, and all the drones have to scuttle back to their dreary workaday lives of meaningless toil and suffering.
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That's why I liked him, I think. Another guy pretending to be human, just like me.
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And I was having too much fun to stop now.
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I was good at being charming, one of my very few vanities.
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...she opened the door very slowly and carefully, half hiding behind it, as if badly frightened of what might be waiting for her on the other side. And considering that it was me waiting, this showed rare common sense.
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It was such an unexpected and genuine smile that if I only had a soul I'm sure I would have felt quite guilty.
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I waved to everybody. Some of them even waved back. They knew me, had seen me go by before, always cheerful, a big hello for everybody. He was such a nice man. Very friendly. I can’t believe he did those horrible things . . .
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I thought about the nice clothes that I always wore. Well of course I did. I took pride in being the best dressed monster in Dade County.
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