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Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.

Josh Lanyon

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Josh Lanyon
Intolerable
Fond
Miss
Missing
Dead
Opinion
Would

More quotes by Josh Lanyon

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I'm a thirty-something gay man with a dodgy heart. I sell books for a living. Who wants to read about that?
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He needed fresh air and sunshine. A walk in the woods and afterward a good book to read by the fire. Yeah, that was the life.
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You're kind of a smart ass when you're not flat on your face.
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I know that asshole you were with in college --” “Can we leave that asshole out of it?” Please, gentlemen, one asshole at a time.
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The battle rages eternal, though the race, religion, gender or sexual orientation of those discriminated against changes regularly. Maybe man’s need for a scapegoat is genetically programmed into him.
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I thought I recognized you. Really? He remembered me looking like Swamp Thing? How flattering.
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To find them all in one package...well, perhaps better not to dwell on his package in my fragile state.
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I thought again how odd it was to be on formal terms with someone you had once permitted to lick your ears.
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Then, like a born and bred asshole, he added to the sheriff, He writes murder mysteries.
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All cynics are disappointed idealists. The more stars in the eyes, the harder the fall.
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Anyone who wasn't half-stoned on pain meds would have instantly realized what a really bad idea this plan was, but since that didn't include me, I didn't worry about it.
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Drink your coffee -- people in Africa are sleeping.
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I dug out the powder blue cashmere cardigan my mother Lisa gave me the Christmas before last, pulled on my oldest, softest Levi’s. Comfort clothes the next best thing to a hug from a warm, living body. Lately there had been a shortage of hugs in my life. Lately there had been a shortage of warm, living bodies.
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Shrugging out of the damaged shirt, Jake said roughly, “I still dream about you.” “I have nightmares about you.” I dragged my T-shirt over my head, threw it aside.
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Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.
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The only thing worse than opera is someone who hums along with opera.
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And I thought maybe I didn't need to worry about my heart anymore because it had stopped beating a couple of seconds earlier, and I was still sitting there living and breathing-though admittedly I wasn't feeling much of anything.
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He scooped up Victoria practically before she hit the ground, well within the five-second rule. If she'd been a potato chip, he could have still eaten her. Not something I particularly wanted to contemplate.
Josh Lanyon
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I love you, Jake whispered. Are you strong enough for this? I made myself comfortable. Said over my shoulder, Sure. Would you tell me if you weren't? I grinned. Maybe. I can't think of a nicer way to commit suicide. That's good. I can't think of a more pleasant way to commit murder.
Josh Lanyon
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I know you've all heard the advice, Show, don't tell. The best writers don't tell you, and quite frankly they don't just show you -- they make you feel it, live it, taste it, touch it. Storytelling is about being in the moment with the characters.
Josh Lanyon