Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Derek Landy

Quote by Derek Landy

“Did you know, and this is a fact here, did you know that most spiders are ugly? It's true. The woman spiders have it really hard time of it. I saw it on a documentary. Why do you think the Black Widow kills the guy she mates with? Shame, that's why - Tanith Low”

Quote by Derek Landy

Work

Playing with Fire

In this gripping tale, the protagonist navigates a web of intrigue and danger, exploring themes of passion, ambition, and the fine line between love and obsession. more

Author

Derek Landy
Derek Landy

Derek Landy (born October 23, 1974) is an Irish author and screenwriter, best known for his young adult fantasy series Skulduggery Pleasant. Since the first book was published in 2007, the series has sold millions of copies worldwide and been translated into numerous languages. Landy's works are characterized by humor, action, and supernatural elements, appealing to young readers. He was born in Dublin, Ireland, and initially worked as a screenwriter before transitioning to novel writing. In addition to the Skulduggery Pleasant series, he has created other works such as The Demon Road trilogy. Landy's writing style blends dark humor with adventurous plots, making him a significant figure in children's literature. more

You May Also Like

“Is it fun? Doin' all that detectin'? I always wanted to be a detective. I was one, for about a year, I liked the romance of it all. The suits, the hats, the dark alleys, the femme fetale, all that quick talkin' ... But I couldn't stop killin' folk. I mean, they'd hire me, I'd try to solve their mystery, nut halfway through I'd get bored and end up killin' them, and then the case'd be over and that'd be it. I solved one single murder that whole year, but I don't think that really counts, seein' as how I was the killer. I think that's kinda cheatin', in a way - Billy-Ray Sanguine.”

“Is it fun? Doin' all that detectin'? I always wanted to be a detective. I was one, for about a year, I liked the romance of it all. The suits, the hats, the dark alleys, the femme fetale, all that quick talkin' ... But I couldn't stop killin' folk. I mean, they'd hire me, I'd try to solve their mystery, nut halfway through I'd get bored and end up killin' them, and then the case'd be over and that'd be it. I solved one single murder that whole year, but I don't think that really counts, seein' as how I was the killer. I think that's kinda cheatin', in a way.”

“No lo creo todavía estás llegando a mi lado y la noche es un puñado de estrellas y de alegría palpo gusto escucho y veo tu rostro tu paso largo tus manos y sin embargo todavía no lo creo tu regreso tiene tanto que ver contigo y conmigo que por cábala lo digo y por las dudas lo canto nadie nunca te reemplaza y las cosas más triviales se vuelven fundamentales porque estás llegando a casa sin embargo todavía dudo de esta buena suerte porque el cielo de tenerte me parece fantasía pero venís y es seguro y venís con tu mirada y por eso tu llegada hace mágico el futuro y aunque no siempre he entendido mis culpa y mis fracasos en cambio sé que en tus brazos el mundo tiene sentido y si beso la osadía y el misterio de tus labios no habrá dudas ni resabios te querré más todavía.”

“The problem with today’s world is that everyone believes they have the right to express their opinion AND have others listen to it. The correct statement of individual rights is that everyone has the right to an opinion, but crucially, that opinion can be roundly ignored and even made fun of, particularly if it is demonstrably nonsense!”

“ARTE MAGNÉTICA DE tanto amar y andar salen los libros. Y si no tienen besos o regiones y si no tienen hombre a manos llenas, si no tienen mujer en cada gota, hambre, deseo, cólera, caminos, no sirven para escudo ni campana: están sin ojos y no podrán abrirlos, tendrán la boca muerta del precepto. Amé las genitales enramadas y entre sangre y amor cavé mis versos, en tierra dura establecí una rosa disputada entre el fuego y el rocío. Por eso pude caminar cantando.”

“Você conheceu algum poema-veneno que faria explodir minha prisão num maço de miosótis? Uma arma que mataria o rapaz perfeito que mora em mim e me obriga a asilar todo um aglomerado de animais? As andorinhas se aninham debaixo de seus braços. Aí elas construíram um ninho de terra seca. Lagartas de veludo cor de tabaco mesclam-se nos cachos dos seus cabelos. Sob seus pés um enxame de abelhas, e ninhadas de víboras atrás dos seus olhos. Nada o emociona. Nada o perturba a não ser as meninas fazendo a primeira comunhão, pondo a língua para o padre, ajuntando as mãos, baixando os olhos. Faz frio como na neve. Sei que ele é sorrateiro. O ouro mal o faz sorrir, mas se ele sorrir, terá a graça dos anjos. Que cigano seria suficientemente veloz para livrar-me dele com um punhal inevitável? É necessário velocidade, uma boa pontaria, uma bela indiferença. E... o assassino ocupou seu lugar. Voltou esta manhã de uma volta pelas espeluncas onde viu marinheiros, putas, uma delas deixou no seu rosto o traço de uma mão sangrenta. Ele pode partir para bem longe mas é fiel como um pombo. Outra noite, uma velha atriz colocou uma camélia na sua lapela. Eu quis amassá-la: as pétalas caíram sobre o tapete (mas que tapete? Minha cela é pavimentada de pedras achatadas) em grossas gotas de água transparentes e mornas. Agora, apenas ouso olhar para ele, pois meus olhos atravessam sua carne de cristal e estes ângulos rígidos perfazem tantos arcos-íris que eis por que choro. Fim. Pode não parecer grande coisa para vocês, mas este poema me aliviou. Eu o caguei.”