Quotes from Jeff Lindsay

Debs stood in the rain and watched him go, which I am sure she intended to make Wilkins nervous enough to leap from the car and confess, but considering the weather it struck me as excessive zeal. I got into the car and waited for her.

It made no sense. It was crazy, unbelievable, impossible. I had been seen, and I had walked away from it consequence-free. I could not really believe it, but slowly, gradually, as I parked my own car in front of my house and just sat for a moment, Logic came back from its too-long vacation on the island of Adrenaline, and I sat hunched over the steering wheel, and communed once more with sweet reason. All

This was not even a matter of putting two and two together; it was looking at four.

Every now and then we find ourselves living through moments that make no sense at all. It's almost as if some omnipotent film editor has snipped us out of our familiar everyday movie and spliced us into something completely random, from a different time and genre and even from a foreign country and partially animated, because suddenly you look around you and the language is unknown and nothing that happens has any relationship to what you think of as reality. This

But it also called for a certain amount of Dexter's newfound Lily Anne–born compassion, since I could tell that without my help, my sister was going to prove once and for all that there really was something to the idea of spontaneous combustion.

a huge, reddish-yellow moon, a bloated, simpering, bloodthirsty moon, and the first sight of it turned every inch of my skin into a chilled carpet of goose bumps, all the hairs on my back and arms stood up and howled, and running through every corridor of Castle Dexter was a small and dark footman carrying orders to every Knight of the Night to Go Now and Do It.

He waved a hand dismissively. "They'll make you look like one. And they'll assume you threatened your daughter and she'll say what you want her to. Standard scenario, predigested, and the courts eat it up. So whatever you can do with the forensic stuff won't matter." He nodded, as if he approved of the prosecutor taking that approach. "I think that's the plan.

She looked at me, and then I knew what was wrong, because I saw something very dark and leather-winged at the back of her eyes, just for a moment, before the cover of icy amusement slid back into place on her face. "I shall make him forgive me," she said, and her lips turned up higher in a wonderful fake smile. "Besides, he won't find out, will he?" And she turned to Deborah. "This will be our little secret, all right?" she said.

You're too young to go to the mall," Rita said. "And anyway—" "I'm almost twelve," Astor interrupted with a hiss, making "twelve" sound like an age so advanced that it required regular geriatric care.

This was all foreign turf to me, ideas that were in the syllabus for Advanced Marriage, a postgraduate course in the area of human studies, and I knew almost nothing about it. But

But this left a very large question mark: Who was Chutsky, in fact, and how did I get his help? Did I need some cunning stratagem to bend him to my will, or would I have to resort to some form of the unprecedented uncomfortable unspeakable truth? The very thought of committing honesty made me tremble in every leaf and branch—it went against everything I had ever stood for. But there seemed no way out; I would have to be at least marginally truthful.

She ground her teeth and squeezed her hands together some more for a few seconds, and she seemed to think about jumping out the window. But it was only the second floor, and the windows were sealed shut, so finally Debs turned away and slumped back into her chair. "All right," she said through clenched teeth. "Let's do it." There

I am not truly a clothing-oriented person, but I do have some basic standards of sartorial decency, and the outfits we were wearing crushed them utterly and spat them into the dust.

Not with me there," I said, and although I admit it sounded rather boastful, not at all my usual style of modest self-effacement, I really did believe it. "Really, Jackie, this guy is not capable of any real surprises.

He had committed hanky-panky with paperwork, and if something in the System is committed to paper, it becomes transubstantiated into a Sacred Relic. To

Cody finally came out and sat next to me, and the two of us waited in silent camaraderie and watched as Rita and Astor changed shoes, shirts, shorts, hair scrunchies, and hats, fighting every step of the way. By the time they were finally ready, I was so exhausted just from watching them that I wasn't sure I could lift a paintbrush. But somehow, we all got into the car, and I drove us over to the new house.

Deborah trying to make a statement at a press conference was torture so intensely painful that I am quite sure that the men in black hoods who worked for the Inquisition would have shuddered and refused to participate.

Deborah snapped me out of my pathetic fugue by slapping her hands on the steering wheel. "Goddamn it," she said. "I just don't fucking trust her." I

It made me a bit uneasy; why was she staring like that? I glanced down to make sure I was wearing pants, and I was. When I looked up again, she was still staring.

Mr. Mustache spoke up, again without moving any facial muscles. "I neeeed," he said, drawing out the word pointlessly, "to learn Who. You. Are." That made even less sense than what Matthews had said, and I could think of no reply more penetrating than, "Oh, uh-huh Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â It must have sounded just as feeble to him as it did to me, because he moved at last, turning his entire head in my direction and flipping up the sunglasses with one manicured finger.

I think I have a right to know my husband killed somebody," Rita said. "And he's cheating on me?" she added, as if killing might be overlooked, but cheating was something truly despicable. It was not quite the proper order of our society's priorities as I had come to understand them, but this was not the time to debate contemporary ethical concepts.

The beautiful woman next to him snorted and murmured something that sounded like, "Asshole Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â The man's face gave a very slight twitch of irritation, but otherwise he ignored her.

What a lovely family you have, brother," he said. "Domestic perfection." "I still don't know why you're here," I said. "Don't you?" Brian said. "Wasn't I obvious?" "Painfully obvious," I said. "But not at all clear.

Because I was following Deborah, several of them eyed me speculatively, but after many years of diligent maintenance, my disguise was too good for them, and they all decided that I was exactly what I wanted to appear—an absolute nonentity with no answers to anything. And so, relatively unmolested, battered only on the upper arm from Deborah's arm punch, I made it out of the press conference and, with my sister, back to the task force command center on the second floor. Somewhere