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I sighed as comforting as it may be to some of us, sarcasm, like youth, is wasted on the young.

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
May
Like
Sighed
Sarcasm
Comforting
Wasted
Youth
Young

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And as we should all know by now, anytime you predict failure you have an excellent chance of being right.
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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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I often find myself in situations where it seems to me like everyone else has read the instruction book
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Perhaps because I'll never be one, humans are interesting to me.
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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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...she opened the door very slowly and carefully, half hiding behind it, as if badly frightened of what might be waiting for her on the other side. And considering that it was me waiting, this showed rare common sense.
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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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It really is better to be lucky than to be good.
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Because I am an inhuman monster, I tend to be logical.
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I know family comes first, but shouldn't that mean after breakfast?
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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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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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...being torn apart by far too many loyalties that could not possibly live together in the same brain.
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Our universe is ruled by random whim, inhabited by people who laugh at logic.
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Dying makes everyone weaker, subject to painful insight, and not always insight into any kind of special truth - it's just the approaching end that makes people want to believe they are seeing something in the line of a great revelation.
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This was just no fun. I wanted my brain back.
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When faced with people who have very limited conversational skills and no apparent desire to cultivate any it's always easier to simply go along.
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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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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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Feeling - what authentic human fun!
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