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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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“Next time what I'd do is look at the earth before saying anything. I'd stop just before going into a house and be an emperor for a minute and listen better to the wind or to the air being still. When anyone talked to me, whether blame or praise or just passing time, I'd watch the face, how the mouth has to work, and see any strain, any sign of what lifted the voice. And for all, I'd know more -- the earth bracing itself and soaring, the air finding every leaf and feather over forest and water, and for every person the body glowing inside the clothes like a light.”

“I have a hunch the world is darker than I could ever imagine and there is less reason for hope than I am able to see. It makes me grateful there is only so much I can see, and I am left mostly with questions. Grateful, also, that hope is not a reasonable thing. Though I have seen my share of darkness, I am spared perceiving much of it. And here is why I hope beyond a reasonable doubt: I think that as the darkness grows, it makes the dim lights that are left seem brighter. And the darker it gets, the brighter the light appears, until it is so luminous, eventually, even falling shadows are filled with it.”

“Port o rochie gri, în volută, îmi amintește de felul în care valurile se sparg cenușiu și tulbure de coastă la Marea Nordului. În orașul ăsta nimeni nu își poartă sufletul pe dinafară, nimeni nu își varsă amarul, ci doar, ocazional, berea. Cuvintele ies spurcate și abrupte din guri, ca-ntr-o babilonie a grăbiților, nu pot să le deslușesc destule emoții, nu pot să mă hrănesc de pe buzele lor. Străzile miros urât și mă forțează să-mi îndes capul într-un fular negru sub care aș putea trece cu ușurință drept o fată afgană. Sunt prea puțini oamenii care ne vor și prea mulți cei care ne vor schimbați.”