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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?
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
Things
Wondering
Terrible
Happen
Wonder
Sleep
Found
Unbelieving
Happens
Drifted
Always
Stunned
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Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?
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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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It really is better to be lucky than to be good.
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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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She really did like me, the idiot.
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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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The mind picks some very bad times to take a walk doesn't it?
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Our universe is ruled by random whim, inhabited by people who laugh at logic.
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It was such an unexpected and genuine smile that if I only had a soul I'm sure I would have felt quite guilty.
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I don't know if you have noticed this, but it is quite possible for two human beings to have a conversation in which one or both parties involved has absolutely no idea what they're talking about.
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What a terrible thing life can be.
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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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What do you want a clock for?” “To find out what time it is,” I said. “I think that’s the usual purpose.
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Or was he saying, Hi! Wanna play? And I did. Of course I did.
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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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I looked around the store and what I saw was not very encouraging. There were rows and rows of violent toys...aisle after aisle of training devices for recreational slaughter. No wonder our world was such a mean and violent place...if we teach children that killing is fun, can we really be surprised if now and then someone is smart enough to learn?
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I thought about the nice clothes that I always wore. Well of course I did. I took pride in being the best dressed monster in Dade County.
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Money to me had always been merely something the sheep used to show each other how wonderful they were.
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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.
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I rose to my knees, mouth dry and heart pounding, and paused to finger a rip in my beautiful Dacron bowling shirt. I pushed my fingertip through the hole and wiggled it at myself. Hello, Dexter, where are you going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I don't know, but I'm almost there. I hear my friends calling.
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