We can know what love is. It´s adults who have forgotten, so they cling to their poor substitute and yell at kids who dare to live with real love. Pure Love. Love without compromise or distraction.
BARRY LYGAYou don’t swing at any pitch. You swing at the ones you can hit.
More Barry Lyga Quotes
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. . . but there’s a restraining order in place.’ She speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully. ‘I’m not supposed to be this close to you.’ You were never supposed to be this close to me,’ I say, and I have no idea why.
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[She] was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy, and hate and crazy don’t weigh anything.
BARRY LYGA -
Sometimes hope could be the most frightening thing in the world.
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And what? Accidentally cuts off three fingers postmortem? ‘Oops, oh, no, my girlfriend just died! Clumsy me, in trying to perform CPR, I chopped off some fingers! Guess I’ll just take them with me…. Oh, darn, where did that middle finger go?
BARRY LYGA -
Are you stalking me, Mr. Fulton?” The idea both amused and horrified Jazz.
BARRY LYGA -
It just means that if someone hates you, they still have feelings for you. If they really didn’t care about you, they’d just forget about you. They wouldn’t even waste the time hating you.
BARRY LYGA -
Unreal. I’m feeling nostalgic for something that happened less than twenty-four hours ago. This has got to be a record.
BARRY LYGA -
You don’t swing at any pitch. You swing at the ones you can hit.
BARRY LYGA -
Look, my dad has a saying – we’ll burn that bridge when get to it. OK? You get it? Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.
BARRY LYGA -
Josh Mendel has a secret. Unfortunately, everyone knows what it is.
BARRY LYGA -
If I think she’ hot and it turns out she’s a psychopath, then what does that say about me? I’m totally not ready for that kind of therapy.
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See, forgiveness doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not an event – it’s a process.
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The best revenge is living well, my dad told me once.
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This is why I forgive, but I don’t forget. When you forget someone, the forgiveness doesn’t mean anything anymore.
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A river of images and thoughts and feelings, dirtied and polluted so that no one could drink from it without gagging.
BARRY LYGA






