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Quote by Jeff Lindsay

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Darkly Dreaming Dexter

Darkly Dreaming Dexter is a novel that delves into the psyche of Dexter Morgan, a seemingly normal blood spatter analyst who secretly embarks on a quest to kill criminals who have escaped justice. The narrative is told from Dexter's perspective, offering readers a glimpse into his internal monologue and his intricate moral code. The story explores themes of identity, morality, and the nature of evil, as Dexter grapples with his dark passenger, a voice that drives him to commit acts of vigilante justice. The novel is known for its unique blend of dark humor and psychological depth, making it a compelling read for fans of the genre. more

Author

Jeff Lindsay
Jeff Lindsay

Jeff Lindsay, born on July 14, 1952, is a renowned playwright known for his profound character development and unique narrative style. His works have won numerous awards and have had a significant impact on the contemporary theater. more

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“But now I wonder--what if everyone is pretty much the same and it's just a thousand small choices that add up to the person you are? No good or evil, no black and white, no inner demons or angels whispering the right answers in our ears like it's some cosmic SAT test. Just us, hour by hour, minute by minute, day by day,making the best choices we can. The thought is horrifying. If that's true, then there's no right choice. There's only choice.”

“I can walk into someone's house, kiss their wife, sit down at their table, and eat their dinner. I can lift a passport at an airport, and in twenty minutes it will seem like it's mine. I can be a blackbird staring in the window. I can be a cat creeping along a ledge. I can go anywhere I want and do the worst things I can imagine, with nothing to ever connect me to those crimes. Today I look like me, but tomorrow I could look like you. I could be you.”

“Do we behave out of fear of punishment, or out of the demands of our heart? For me, it is the latter, as I would hope is true for all adults, thought I know from bitter experience that such is not often the case. To act in a manner designed to catapult you into heaven would seem transparent to a god, any god,for if ones heart is not in allignment with the creator of that heaven, then... what is the point?”

“Suppose the looking glass smashes, the image disappears, and the romantic figure with the green of forest depths all about it is there no longer, but only that shell of a person which is seen by other people - what an airless, shallow, bald, prominent world it becomes! A world not to be lived in. As we face each other in omnibuses and underground railways we are looking into the mirror that accounts for the vagueness, the gleam of glassiness, in our eyes.”