Quote

For the first time I could remember, I felt weak, woozy and stupid— like a human-being. Like a very small and helpless human-being.

Jeff Lindsay

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Jeff Lindsay
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: July 14
Novelist
Playwright
Writer
Miami
Florida
Jeffry P. Freundlich
Jeffry P. Lindsay
First
Weak
Time
Stupid
Like
Small
Felt
Remember
Firsts
Human
Humans
Helpless

More quotes by Jeff Lindsay

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And so as much as I can, I care about her, dear Deborah. It's probably not love, but I would rather she were happy.
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Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?
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Our universe is ruled by random whim, inhabited by people who laugh at logic.
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I sighed as comforting as it may be to some of us, sarcasm, like youth, is wasted on the young.
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This was just no fun. I wanted my brain back.
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But as I have noticed on more than one occaision, life itself is unfair, and there is no complaint department, so we might as well accept things the way they happen, clean up the mess, and move on.
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Killing makes me feel good.
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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.
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What to wear? I could think of no guidelines on what we were wearing this season to a party forced on you to celebrate an unwanted engagement that might turn into a violent confrontation with a vengeful maniac. Clearly brown shoes were out, but beyond that nothing really seemed de rigueur.
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I am unlovable...I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing and sooner or later the other person catches me Acting or one of Those Nights comes along.
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And once again I found myself wondering, as I drifted off to stunned and unbelieving sleep:How do these terrible things always happen to me?
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I know family comes first, but shouldn't that mean after breakfast?
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I had killed our careful relationship by driving my tongue through its heart and pushing it off a cliff.
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Perhaps because I'll never be one, humans are interesting to me.
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I'm quite sure more people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake all of it. --Dexter
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I think people understand things different when they get older. It’s not a question of getting soft, or seeing things in the gray areas instead of black and white. I really believe I’m just understanding things different. Better.
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And then more quiet, silence so deep it almost drowned out the roar of the night music that pounded away in my secret self.
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I waved to everybody. Some of them even waved back. They knew me, had seen me go by before, always cheerful, a big hello for everybody. He was such a nice man. Very friendly. I can’t believe he did those horrible things . . .
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But of course, there's no rest for the wicked, which I certainly am as I said, no rest for the wicked.
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After a long moment I closed the freezer door. I wanted to lie down and press my cheek against the cool linoleum. Instead I reached out with my little finger and flipped the Barbie's head. It went thack thack against the door. I flipped it again. Thack thack. Whee. I had a new hobby.
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