Quotes from Gillian Flynn

Ninety degrees but the heat made me feel safe, like walking under water.

He was born to be lonely, that's what he knew for certain.

I think of that, too: her mind. Her brain, all those coils, and her thoughts shuttling through those coils like fast, frantic centipedes. Like a child, I picture opening her skull, unspooling her brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down her thoughts. What are you thinking, Amy?

inside joke is like a symbol of friendship without having to do the work required of an actual friendship. So

I'm here, I said, and it felt shockingly comforting, those words. When I'm panicked, I say them aloud to myself. I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am. I feel like a warm gust of wind could exhale my way and I'd be disappeared forever, not even a sliver of fingernail left behind. On some days, I find this thought calming; on others it chills me.

I always feel sad for the girl that I was

And it's so far beyond fine that you know you can never go back to fine. That fast. You think: Oh, here is the rest of my life. It's finally arrived.

Nick and I, we sometimes laugh, laugh out loud, at the horrible things women make their husbands do to prove their love. The pointless tasks, the myriad sacrifices, the endless small surrenders. We call these men the dancing monkeys.

Tiene algo de perturbador, evocar un recuerdo cálido y que te deje completamente frío.

Andie was a physical girl, and that's not code for 'It's all about the sex'. She was a hugger, a toucher, she was prone to running her fingers through my hair or down my back in a friendly scratch. She got reassurance and comfort from touching. And yes, fine, she also liked sex.

One should never marry a man who doesn't own a decent set of scissors.

I remember at one point starting a goofy story about a childhood field trip here, and I saw her eyes go blank, and I got secretly furious, spent ten minutes just winding myself up – because at this point of our marriage, I was so used to being angry with her, it felt almost enjoyable, like gnawing on a cuticle: You know you should stop, that it doesn't really feel as good as you think, but you can't quit grinding away.

My husband is the most loyal man on the planet until he's not.

I would never steer a fellow sufferer from the relief of a blackout.

I wish I'd be murdered...Then I'd never have to worry again. When you die, you become perfect. I'd be like Princess Diana. Everyone loves her now.

Before we start, you have to understand one very key thing about Amy: She is fucking brilliant. Her brain is so busy, it never works on just one level. She's like this endless archaeological dig: You think you've reached the final layer, and then you bring down your pick one more time, and you break through to a whole new mine shaft beneath. With a maze of tunnels and bottomless pits.

I always feel sad for the girl that i was, because it never occurred to me that my mother might comfort me.

What are you thinking, Amy? The question I've asked most often during our marriage, if not out loud, if not to the person who could answer. I suppose these questions stormcloud over every marriage: What are you thinking? How are you feeling? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?

That's the way plants down here work: The Mexicans get the shittiest, most dangerous jobs, and the whites still complain.

AÅŸk daha iyi bir adam olma isteÄŸi yarat?r. DoÄŸru bu, doÄŸru. Ama belki aÅŸk, gerçek aÅŸk ayn? zamanda olduÄŸum adam olmama da izin veriyordur.

We were the first human beings who would never see anything for the first time. We stare at the wonders of the world, dull-eyed, underwhelmed. Mona Lisa, the Pyramids, the Empire State Building. Jungle animals on attack, ancient icebergs collapsing, volcanoes erupting. I can't recall a single amazing thing I have seen firsthand that I didn't immediately reference to a movie or TV show. A fucking commercial. You know the awful singsong of the blasé: Seeeen it.

Worries find you easily enough without inviting them. With Diane, worries were almost physical beings, leechy creatures with latchhooks for fingers, meant to be vanquished immediately. Diane didn't worry, that was for less hearty women.

Winter. No one likes winter." "It gets dark early, I like that." "Why?" Because that means the day has ended. I like checking days off a calendar—151 days crossed and nothing truly horrible has happened. 152 and the world isn't ruined. 153 and I haven't destroyed anyone. 154 and no one really hates me.

She was clearly rich. Her handbag was too plain to be anything but incredibly expensive.