Quotes from Dennis Lehane

Which would be worse - to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?

Catch me on a good day, I think half of my books aren't too bad. Catch me on a bad day, I think I've never written a good line.

In Greek tragedy, they fall from great heights. In noir, they fall from the curb.

Happiness comes in moments, & then it's gone until the next time. Could be years. But sadness settles it.

I won the parental lottery. Most of the kids I grew up with either came from really fractured homes, or really violent ones. I went home to a very traditional, good Irish Catholic family.

He wondered if this was what clinical depression felt like, a total numbness, a weary lack of hope.

There's something ugly about the flawless.

Happiness doesn't lie in conspicuous consumption and the relentless amassing of useless crap. Happiness lies in the person sitting beside you and your ability to talk to them. Happiness is clear-headed human interaction and empathy. Happiness is home. And home is not a house-home is a mythological conceit. It is a state of mind. A place of communion and unconditional love. It is where, when you cross its threshold, you finally feel at peace.

And he hated himself and hated her,too, for the ruin they'd made of each other.

Which would be worse, to live as a monster or to die as a good man?

He wanted to ask her what sound a heart made when it broke from pleasure, when just the sight of someone filled you the way food, blood, and air never could, when you felt as if you'd been born for only one moment and this, for whatever reason, was it.

There are so many more important things to worry about than how you're perceived by strangers.

This world can only give me reminders of what I don't have, can never have, didn't have for long enough.

There are threads in our lives. You pull one, and everything else gets affected.

The brain controls pain. It controls fear. Sleep. Empathy. Hunger. Everything we associate with the heart or the soul or the nervous system is actually controlled by the brain. Everything. What if you could control it?

Life isn't happily ever after... It's work. The person you love is rarely worthy of how big your love is. Because no one is worthy of that and maybe no one deserves that burden of it, either. You'll be let down. You'll be disappointed and have your trust broken and have a lot of real sucky days. You lose more than you win. You hate the person you love as much as you love him. But you roll up your sleeves and work - at everything - because that's what growing older is.

Your first family is your blood family and you always be true to that. That means something. But there's another family and that's the kind you go out and find. Maybe even by accident sometimes. And they're as much blood as your first family. Maybe more so, because they don't have to look out for you and they don't have to love you. They choose to.

That's the thing about being a victim; you start to think it'll happen to you on a regular basis. It's living with the reality of your own vulnerability, and it sucks.

You've learned that every good lie is threaded with truth and every accepted truth leaks lies.

If you are deemed insane, then all actions that would oherwise prove you are not do, in actuality, fall into the framework of an insane person's actions. Your sound protests constitute denial. Your valid fears are deemed paranoia. Your survival instincts are labeled defense mechanisms. It's a no-win situation. It's a death penalty really.

In Greek tragedy, they fall from great heights. In noir, they fall from the curb.

How many psychiatrists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" "I don't know. How many?" "Eight." "Why?" "Oh, stop overanalyzing it.

I go on the presumption that everyone's full of shit until proven otherwise, and this usually serves me in good stead.

Maybe there are some things we were put on this earth not to know.