You can’t rely on love. Love will let you down every time. Every. Single. Time. I don’t love Jecca. I don’t love Fanboy. But… God, the buts in life will kill you absolutely every time, won’t they. I don’t love. But I need. I can admit that to myself.
BARRY LYGAJazz hadn’t given her many details of exactly what life in the Dent house had been like, but he’d told her enough that she knew it wasn’t hearts and flowers. Well, except for the occasional heart cut from a chest. And the kind of flowers you send to funerals.
More Barry Lyga Quotes
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I don’t know and I don’t care anymore. I was supposed to have my way for once, just once in my life. I did everything right and I got nothing for it. I want to kill them all. no, better yet, I want to die. No, even bettter than that: I want to kill them all then die.
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And I think of nothing. I think of nothing but Rachel. What happens next is pure magic, and is for us and us alone.
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I just have an allergic reaction to lung cancer. Gives me tumors.
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Fear can keep you alive. The trick is not to let it overwhelm you. Not to let it rule you. If you’re afraid, that’s the universe trying to tell you something. Get away. Don’t run; don’t panic. Just pick up and walk out, calm as you please. Panic makes you stupid.
BARRY LYGA -
You don’t break up with someone just because of an argument, Josh. At least, I don’t.
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At the end of the day, it’s a series of individual challenges played out against a team defense. It’s a psersonal test every time I step into the batter’s box: Can I do better than the last time? And that’s why I love it.
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Sometimes hope could be the most frightening thing in the world.
BARRY LYGA -
(Man, I wish life had emoticons, you know? So that when your dad pisses you off you could like click a mental button or something and just show him one of those rolleyes. That would rock) Anyway.
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You won’t even know you’ve crossed the line until it’s way back in your rearview mirror.
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Medicine cabinets are dangerous. Those doors, man. They’ll just spring on you like a ninja.
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[She] was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy, and hate and crazy don’t weigh anything.
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Yes,” Howie said solemnly. “I can teach you how to be more ‘street’”. “For God’s sake…” “Or is it ‘urban’? I can’t remember. Anyway, I can teach you, grasshopper. Or hip-hopper.
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Homecoming’s stupid.” And it is. Buch of kids looking for excuses to grope eachother all night.
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He moved to run a hand through her cornrows, then pulled back remembering the one time he’s tried that-Connie had lectured him on the Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not touch thy black girlfriend’s hair. Ever.
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Are you stalking me, Mr. Fulton?” The idea both amused and horrified Jazz.
BARRY LYGA