Dearly Devoted Dexter Quotes

“Everyone is so cheerful and happy,” I said

“This isn’t Mister Rogers Neighborhood, Dex. It’s Miami. Only the bad guys are happy.” She looked at me without expression, a perfect cop stare. “How come you’re not laughing and singing?”

“Unkind, Deb. Very unkind. I’ve been good for months.”

She took a sip of water. “Uh-huh. And it’s making you crazy.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“But of course, there's no rest for the wicked, which I certainly am; as I said, no rest for the wicked.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“Dex,” she said. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine, Sis,” I said, feeling somewhat light-headed, “if you’ll just turn off that horrible music.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“Quickly, Watson, the game’s afoot,” I said, but Deborah was not in a literary mood.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“You can use my phone, if you’ll pay the roaming charges,” I said.

“I need a land line,” he said “A pay phone.”

“You’re out of touch with the times,” I said. “A pay phone might be a little hard to find. Nobody uses them anymore.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“But of course, very few people are Dexter. This is generally a good thing, but in this case it came in handy to be me. Four months after reading a story in the paper about a missing boy, I read a similar story. The boys were around the same age; details like that always ring a small bell and send a Mister Rogers whisper trickling through my brain: “Hello, neighbor.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“Perhaps Dexter’s dutiful but uninspired brain pictured him as Sherlock Holmes, able to examine the wheel ruts and deduce that a left-handed hunchback with red hair and a limp had gone down the road carrying a Cuban cigar and a ukulele. I would find no clues, not that it mattered.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“It was indeed a long wait, well over two hours. I sat in the car and listened to the radio
and tried to picture, bite by bite, what it was like to eat a medianochesandwich: the
crackle of the bread crust, socrisp and toasty it scratches the inside of your mouth as you
bite down. Then the first taste of mustard, followed by the soothing cheese and the salt of
the meat. Next bite—a piece of pickle. Chew it all up; let the flavors mingle. Swallow.
Take a big sip of Iron Beer (pronounced Ee-roan Bay-er, and it’s a soda). Sigh. Sheer
bliss. I would rather eat than do anything else except play with the Passenger. It’s a true
miracle of genetics that I am not fat.”
― Jeff Lindsay

“I watched him as he lay there, taking the needle without flinching and knowing that even
the relief it brought was temporary, that his end was coming and he could not stop it—
and knowing, too, that he was not afraid, and that he would do this the right way, as he
had done everything else in his life the right way. And I knew this, too: Harry understood
me. No one else ever had, and no one else ever would, through all time in all the world.
Only Harry. The only reason I ever thought about being human was to be more like him.”
― Jeff Lindsay

“And if so, I could fill my time with the new entry on my rather exclusive social register, whoever had created the Howling Vegetable of N.W. 4th Street, and the fact that this sounded rather like a Sherlock Holmes title made it no less urgent.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter