Quotes from Barry Lyga

And if it's locked, I'll knock it the hell down." He thinks when he busts out "hell" I take him more seriously. Yeah. Insert eye roll here.

Here's the thing. Here's the thing I hate: His concern is like a really warm drink when your body is cold, and you feel it go all the way down your throat and then into your stomach, where it pools and spreads out. But the problem is, that cold is good . Cold is numb . And when you're numb, you can't feel pain. You can't feel pain until some stupid warm drink makes you not numb anymore and then you can feel again.

How do i know that what I see as blue and what you see as blue are the same thing? Answer: We don't. We take it on faith.

He easily gathered her in his arms; Gramma was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy - and hate and crazy don't weigh anything.

There were dragons, in his dreams, as though some part of him knew the trials were not yet over, that there were battles yet to be fought. He slept fitfully, fidgeting, tossing and turning, groaning and crying out in his sleep.

At the end of the day, it's a series of individual challenges played out against a team defense. It's a psersonal test every time I step into the batter's box: Can I do better than the last time? And that's why I love it.

Someone's on the rag," she chides, then grabs her crotch as if adjusting a cup. "And it's not me.

Length isn't as important as what you say and how you say it.

You can't rely on love. Love will let you down every time. Every. Single. Time.

Your words hurt, Jazz. They hurt like cotton balls thrown in my direction.

I'm not sure which is worse--being born to it or learning it.

At least you'll be alive to hate me.

He wasn't just dead; he was severely dead. He was one of the deadest people Hughes had ever seen, and Hughes had seen quite a few.

But Billy had done good deeds all the time. So had John Wayne Gacy, and dozens of others. It didn't matter. It was all part of the disguise. Jazz realized that he couldn't trust even his noblest impulses. They might not be genuine. They might just be camouflage.

This isn't 'I do something for you, you do something for me'. This is hard-core friendship. Varsity level. This is me asking you to do something for me without getting anything in return. This is friendship, Howie.

Once he gets inside your head, you're dead.

Can they, like get fingerprints from her neck? Can they catch the guy that way?" "This guy isn't an amateur. He probably used gloves." "How do you know he isn't an amateur, Sherlock?" "There's bruising on the left-hand knuckles, and on the sides of both hands. Probably would be on the right-hand knuckles, too, if we had them." "She hit him," Howie said. "She fought back.

It was like playing checkers, only to learn that your opponent was playing chess all along.

He fucked my wife!" George wailed. "He ruined my life!" "Your wife was a goddamn whore!

I taught you everything you know, but not everything I know.

But it's high school. It's not real love, or at least you can't be sure it's real love. Real love is messy and complicated and brutal. It's been tested. Zik and Michelle have never been tested by anything mroe than being separated by a couple of classes.

You're next.

The best way to support the troops is to not send them off to die in the first place. And the second best way to support them only to send them off to die when you absolutely have to. And the only way to know that you've done that is to talk about it, debate it, examine it, and make damn sure.

In baseball, when you get into the batter's box, that's it. It's just you. It's one man against the world. All that matters in that moment is your individual achievement and your individual skill. There is literally nothing that anyone else on your team can do for you. Hell, they're all sitting on the bench, waiting to see what happens, just like the fans in the crowd! It's just you and your bat. And the ball.