Quotes from Gillian Flynn

I paced a bit, tried to remember how to breathe right, how to calm my skin. But it blared at me. Sometimes my scars have a mind of their own.

The problem started long before that, of course. Problems always start long before you really, really see them.

Sometimes if you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them

It's a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless automat of characters. And if all of us are play-acting, there can be no such thing as a soul mate, because we don't have genuine souls. It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I'm not a real person and neither is anyone else. I would have done anything to feel real again.

The man cocked his gun and Patty had time for one last thought: I wish, I wish, I wish I could take this back.

Hell, at this point, I can't imagine my story without Amy. She is my forever antagonist. We are one long frightening climax.

I can feel a better version of me somewhere in there—hidden behind a liver or attached to a bit of spleen within my stunted, childish body—a Libby that's telling me to get up, do something, grow up, move on. But the meanness usually wins out.

She was a worst-case scenarist on a grand scale. Because it was never just that the door was unlocked, it was that the door was unlocked, and men were inside, and they were waiting to rape and kill her.

I hadn't necessarily wanted to be cured. But I was out of places to write, slicing myself between my toes—bad, cry—like a junkie looking for one last vein. Vanish did it for me. I'd saved the neck, such a nice prime spot, for one final good cutting. Then I turned myself in.

I think she's sick, and I think what she has is contagious

Why bother? It's impossible to compete with the dead.

She began walking away from me, down the hallway—luminous white living rooms and sitting rooms and reading rooms blooming out on all sides—and I studied her. It was the first time we'd seen each other in almost a year. My hair was a different color—brown from red—but she didn't seem to notice. She looked exactly the same, though, not much older than I am now, although she's in her late forties. Glowing pale skin

Sheesh, violin can be hard work, but hard work is the only way to get better!')

His brain was sticky, phrases and snatches of songs were always wedging themselves in there. Annihilation. He saw flashes of Norse barbarians swinging axes. He wondered for a second, only a second, if he'd been reincarnated, and this was some leftover memory, flittering down like ash. Then he picked up his bike and banished the idea. He wasn't ten.

Imagine the jacket copr: People behaved mostly well and then they died.

Diane didn't worry, that was for less hearty women.

You can like an immoral character because she's interesting, not because you want to have her over for dinner.

He felt like an animal limping away, some wounded buck that needed to be put down.

A multichild household is a pit of petty jealousies, this I knew, and the Nash children were panicking at the idea of competing not just with one another, but with a dead sister. They had my sympathies.

Tampon commercial, detergent commercial, maxipad commercial, Windex commercial. You'd think all women do is clean and bleed.

But you should never put a fifteen-year-old on a witness stand in a courtroom filled with a bunch of people he knows and expect a lot of tears.

Thank you, Gillian Flynn, for quoting The Sure Thing- Nick's the kind of guy you can drink a beer with, the kind of guy who doesn't mind if you puke in his car. Nick!

I always feel sad for the girl that I was, because it never occurred to me that my mother might comfort me. She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. She tended to me. She administrated me. Oh, yes, and one time she bought me lotion with vitamin E.

I'd come to find the morning depressing, to know it would come again and again.