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I Hunt Killers

Barry Lyga

Top 10 Best Quotes

“You won't even know you've crossed the line until it's way back in your rearview mirror.”

“This is why I forgive, but I don't forget. When you forget someone, the forgiveness doesn't mean anything anymore.”

“Medicine cabinets are dangerous. Those doors, man. They'll just spring on you like a ninja.”

“...called nine-one-one," Howie was saying, "and then I heard something in the alleyway, so I went back there and" --Howie coughed-- "and valiantly attacked his knife with my guts, to no avail." "Did you get a good look at him? Could you describe him?" Howie smiled wanly. "Yeah. He was about yay long" --he held up his hands, four inches apart-- "thin, made of steel. Pointy. Sharp.”

“[She] was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy, and hate and crazy don't weigh anything.”

“What if a puppet could cut its own strings, and in that act of defiance and strength of will become truly alive? Become is own puppetmaster?”

“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.”

“What was the opposite of linkage blindness? What described being certain of something without any kind of evidence? ...The term was faith.”

“It's like this," he'd explained once to Connie. "If someone gave you a single rose, you'd be happy, right?" "Okay," he went on, "Now imagine someone gives you ten thousand roses." "That is a whole lotta roses," she said. "That's too much." "Right. Too much. But more than that, it makes each individual rose much less special, right? It makes it hard to pick one out and say, 'That's the good one.' And it makes you want to just get rid of them all because none of them seem special now." Connie had narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying when you're at school you just want to get rid of everyone?”

“Jazz spent a chunk of the day fantasizing about ways to kill his grandmother, plotting them and planning them in the most excruciating, gruesome detail his imagination would allow. It turned out his imagination allowed quite a bit. He spent the rest of the day convincing himself--over and over--not to do it.”

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Book Keywords:

bouquets, humor, value-of-human-life, black-humor, faith, people, roses

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