Quotes About Deception

Sometimes I feel like Nick has decided on a version of me that doesn't exist.

occurred! Amy was shot! But then I realized

And then I knew I didn't love Amy anymore

too serious, Amy, you're too uptight, Amy, you overthink things, you analyze too much, you're no fun anymore, you make me feel useless, Amy, you make me feel bad, Amy. He took away chunks of me with blasé swipes: my independence, my pride, my esteem. I gave, and he took and took. He Giving Treed me out of existence. That whore, he picked that little whore over me. He killed my soul, which should be a crime. Actually, it is a crime.

can say that?" I do want to start over with the right man, the New Nick. Things are looking bad for him, dire. Only I can save Nick from me. But I am trapped. "If you ever left here and I didn't

I stopped loving you." "Why?" "You stopped loving me. We're a sick, fucking toxic Möbius strip, Amy. We weren't ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves—surprise!—we were poison.

Oh, that sounds like too

He was a good man," she said, dullness with an obligatory injection of empathy. "No, he wasn't," I said, and she laughed like she clearly hadn't in a month.

The casino seemed like a good idea at first—right off the highway, filled with drunks and elderly, neither of whom are known for eyesight. But I am feeling crowded and fidgety, aware of the cameras in every corner, the doors that could snap shut.

I don't want her to kill you. I mean, someday you burn her grilled cheese, and the next thing you know, my phone's ringing and you've taken an awful fall from the roof or some shit. Leave.

No soy un mentiroso del deslumbrante calibre de Amy, pero no se me da mal cuando es necesario.

What have we done to each other? What will we do?

I'd found it strange and kind of cute, Amy's guilty pleasures, those cheesy true-crime books I'd discovered here and there around our house. I thought maybe she was loosening up, allowing herself some beach reading. Nope. She was just studying.

Nick's cell phone rings at ten A.M., and I can tell by his voice that it is Go. He sounds springy, boyish, the way he always does when he talks to her. The way he used to sound with me. He heads into the bedroom and shuts

The moral to the story being: Mr. Binks was a cheating dickweasel, but, you know, marriage is compromise.

Desi has loved me ever since the lie, I know he pictures making love to me, how gentle and reassuring he would be as he plunged into me, stroking my hair. I know he pictures me crying softly as I give myself to him.

The whole book made me want to punch Amy right in her stupid, spotless vagina

Nick wanted Cool Amy anyway. Can you imagine, finally showing your true self to your spouse, your soul mate, and having him not like you? So that's how the hating first began. I've thought about this a lot, and that's where it started, I think.

you always do the little fib if you think it will avoid a real argument. You've always gone the easy way. Tell Mom you went to baseball practice when you really quit the team; tell Mom you went to church when you were at a movie. It's some weird compulsion.

Gillian Flynn

He's calling you a Cool Girl to fool you! That's what men do: They try to make it sound like you are the Cool Girl so you will bow to their wishes.

I was sometimes as guilty of playing the figure-me-out game as Amy was.

I hated Nick for being surprised when I became me. I hated him for not knowing it had to end, for truly believing he had married this creature, this figment of the imagination of a million masturbatory men, semen-fingered and self-satisfied. He truly seemed astonished when I asked him to listen to me.

I had a new persona, not of my choosing. I was Average Dumb Woman Married to Average Shitty Man. He had single-handedly de-amazed Amazing Amy.