Quotes from Jeff Lindsay

Of course, for some bizarre reason, we don't have a National Registry of Who Your Friends Are. One would assume that this administration would have thought of that, and rammed it through Congress. It would certainly make my work easier now.

We were watching a sitcom, I don't remember which. There were many of them at the time that all could be lumped together under the title of Funny Minority and the White Guy .

You can use my phone, if you'll pay the roaming charges," I said. "I need a land line," he said "A pay phone." "You're out of touch with the times," I said. "A pay phone might be a little hard to find. Nobody uses them anymore.

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

If you believe that God makes miracles you have to wonder if Satan has a few up his sleeve.

Oh, the symphonic shriek of the thousand hiding voices, the cry of the Need inside, the entity, the silent watcher, the cold quiet thing, the one that laughs, the Moondancer. The me that was not-me, the thing that mocked and laughed and came calling with its hunger. With the Need. And the Need was very strong now, very careful cold coiled creeping crackly cocked and ready, very strong, very much ready now — and still it waited and watched, and it made me wait and watch.

But the rules are made by people who couldn't win without 'em.

It didn't seem like Sergeant Doakes would give up before my conversion to a beer-bellied sofa ornament was complete, and I could see nothing else to do except play kick the can and hangman with Cody and Astor, performing outrageously theatrical good-bye kisses with Rita afterward for the benefit of my stalker.

Deborah's little house was lavishly decorated in I-have-no-life modern.

Anybody can be charming if they don`t mind faking it.

He had an AM radio playing a conservative talk show. The host was making some very interesting statements about the president. I don't usually pay much attention to politics, but from what the man said, I had to believe that sometime in the recent past the laws regarding sedition must have changed.

Until then, carpe diem.' 'What?' 'It's Latin,' I said. 'It means, complain in daylight.

It had been my experience that fatherhood was mostly a matter of suffering the insufferable, tolerating the intolerable, and changing diapers.

As Deborah had so astutely pointed out, I was engaged and still didn't get it.

Really, now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

Was this what the human reproductive urge was like, a pointless and powerful desire to replicate wonderful, irreplaceable me, even when the me in question was a monster who truly had no right to live among humans? That would certainly explain how a great many of the monumentally unpleasant cretins I encountered every day came to be.

It would be much too difficult for anyone to get in and out of this area, especially if they were carrying questionable loads of body parts and the like.

What a frail thing a human being is—and without the Passenger, that is all I was, a poor imitation of a human being. Weak, soft, slow and stupid, unseeing, unhearing and unaware, helpless, hopeless, and harried.

Our universe is ruled by random whim, inhabited by people who laugh at logic.

I wondered if I could get him to stop saying it if I slapped him a few times. But such logical and rewarding actions are discouraged in the workplace, even when they make perfect sense

Is that why you're crying? (...) It's just hormones, she said. I didn't want anyone to see. I skipped over the image of anyone seeing her hormones and tried to focus on the heart of the matter.

But of course, very few people are Dexter. This is generally a good thing, but in this case it came in handy to be me. Four months after reading a story in the paper about a missing boy, I read a similar story. The boys were around the same age; details like that always ring a small bell and send a Mister Rogers whisper trickling through my brain: "Hello, neighbor.

THERE ARE NIGHTS EVERY NOW AND THEN WHEN THE Dark Passenger really must get out to play. It's like walking a dog. You can ignore the barking and scratching at the door for only so long, and then you must take the beast outside.

Perhaps Dexter's dutiful but uninspired brain pictured him as Sherlock Holmes, able to examine the wheel ruts and deduce that a left-handed hunchback with red hair and a limp had gone down the road carrying a Cuban cigar and a ukulele. I would find no clues, not that it mattered.