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.
BARRY LYGAYou won’t even know you’ve crossed the line until it’s way back in your rearview mirror.
More Barry Lyga Quotes
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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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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.
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Cars are little privacy cocoons that we take with us. If you could refuel while driving you could, theoretically, stay moving forever.
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And my parents made me want i am. So what? We get stuff from our parents, but we also get stuff from the world around us. From people around us. And at the end of the day, we’re us.
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What was the opposite of linkage blindness? What described being certain of something without any kind of evidence?…The term was faith.
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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.
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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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I suddenly realize that I’m naked, which shouldn’t bother me since it’s the phone, but for some reason it does. “How’s it hanging?” Kyra asks and now I think I’m blushing. It’s just an expression, but jeez!
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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.
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The best revenge is living well, my dad told me once.
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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?
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I do what I’ve trained my whole life to do. I watch the ball. I keep my eye on the ball. I never stop watching. I watch it as it sails past me and lands in the catcher’s mitt, a perfect and glorious strike three.
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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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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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One time you told me that the opposite of love isn’t hate. And I didn’t understand that, but I think I do know. Because if you hate someone, you most still care, right? You have to care a little bit; otherwise you would just ignore them and forget they even live. Or lived.
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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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. . . 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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You won’t even know you’ve crossed the line until it’s way back in your rearview mirror.
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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.
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Anger and hatred, when left unfed, bleed away like air from a punctured tire, over time and days and years. Forgiveness is stealth.
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Are you stalking me, Mr. Fulton?” The idea both amused and horrified Jazz.
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Medicine cabinets are dangerous. Those doors, man. They’ll just spring on you like a ninja.
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I just have an allergic reaction to lung cancer. Gives me tumors.
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Josh Mendel has a secret. Unfortunately, everyone knows what it is.
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It’s a good day when a goddess gets on the school-bus with you.
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Jazz 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.
BARRY LYGA