Jeff Lindsay Quotes

“So I was tired, but the tension of the last week was gone, the cold voice of the Dark Passenger was quiet, and I could be me again. Quirky, funny, happy-go-lucky, dead-inside Dexter. No longer Dexter with the knife, Dexter the Avenger. Not until next time.”

“I enjoy my work; sorry if that bothers you. Oh, very sorry, really. But there it is. And it’s not just any killing, of course. It has to be done the right way, at the right time, with the right partner—very complicated, but very necessary.”

“Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn’t seem like a big deal. I’m quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake all of it.”

“Weren’t we all crazy in our sleep? What was sleep, after all, but the process by which we dumped our insanity into a dark subconscious pit and came out on the other side ready to eat cereal instead of our neighbor’s children?”

“Neatness takes time, of course, but it’s worth it. Worth it to make the Dark Passenger happy, keep him quiet for another long while. Worth it just to do it right and tidy. Remove one more heap of mess from the world. A few more neatly wrapped bags of garbage and my one small corner of the world is a neater, happier place. A better place.”

″ ‘I do understand, Father,’ I said, and there was something in my voice, the Dark Passenger’s voice now, and the sound of it froze him. He lifted his head slowly to face me and what he saw in my eyes made him very still. ‘I understand perfectly,” I told him, moving very close to his face. The sweat on his cheeks turned to ice. ‘You see,’ I said, ‘I can’t help myself, either.’ ”

“I felt a lot better. I always did, after. Killing makes me feel good. It works the knots out of darling Dexter’s dark schemata. It’s a sweet release, a necessary letting go of all the little hydraulic valves inside. ”

“There was something just slightly off in Vince’s bright, Asian smile. Like he had learned to smile from a picture book. Even when he made the required dirty put-down jokes with the cops, nobody got mad at him. Nobody laughed, either, but that didn’t stop him. He kept making all the correct ritual gestures, but he always seemed to be faking. That’s why I liked him, I think. Another guy pretending to be human, just like me.”

“I was good at being charming, one of my very few vanities. I had studied hard and practiced long, and when I applied myself no one could tell I was faking it.”

“Anybody can be charming if they don’t mind faking it, saying all the stupid, obvious, nauseating things that a conscience keeps most people from saying. Happily, I don’t have a conscience. I say them.”

″ ‘What are you?’ Father Donovan whispered. ‘The beginning,’ I said. ‘And the end. Meet your Unmaker, Father.’ ”

“I had been too good too many times. It could become a problem. But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn’t sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.”

“In spite of feeling so very moved by the thing, I didn’t have any immediate theories about what it meant. Sometimes great art is like that. It affects you and you can’t say why. Was it deep symbolism? A cryptic message? A wrenching plea for help and understanding? Impossible to say, and to me, not the most important thing at first. I just wanted to breathe it in.”

“Their Midwest driving skills were no match for a Miami Cuban woman with good medical insurance driving a car she didn’t care about.”

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

“Many times in my life I have felt like I was missing something, some essential piece of the puzzle that everybody else carried around with them without thinking about it. I don’t usually mind, since most of those times it turns out to be an astonishingly stupid piece of humania like understanding the infield fly rule or not going all the way on the first date.”

“I don’t pretend to understand why, but in my darker moments I find cold cleansing. Not refreshing so much as necessary.”

“I might have stopped anyway, to show off Rita. The whole point of wearing a disguise was to be seen wearing her.”

“And with those few little words he gave a shape to my whole life, my everything, my who and what I am. The wonderful, all-seeing, all-knowing man. Harry. My dad. If only I was capable of love, how I would have loved Harry.”

“The wind in my face and the taste of the salt spray helped clear my head, made me feel clean and a little fresher. I found it a great deal easier to think. Part of it was the calm and peace of the water. And another part was that in the best tradition of Miami watercraft, most of the other boaters seemed to be trying to kill me. I found that very relaxing. I was right at home. This is my country; these are my people.”