Dearly Devoted Dexter

I am not shy about admitting my modest talents. For example, I am happy to admit that I am better than average at clever remarks, and I also have a flair for getting people to like me. But to be perfectly fair to myself, I am ever-ready to confess my shortcomings, too, and a quick round of soul-searching forced me to admit that I had never been any good at all at breathing water. As I hung there from the seat belt, dazed and watching the water pour in and swirl around my head, this began to seem like a very large character flaw.

I often find myself in situations where it seems to me like everyone else has read the instruction book

A man who discovers his pants are on fire tends to have very little time to worry about somebody else's box of matches

What to wear? I could think of no guidelines on what we were wearing this season to a party forced on you to celebrate an unwanted engagement that might turn into a violent confrontation with a vengeful maniac. Clearly brown shoes were out, but beyond that nothing really seemed de rigueur.

I know family comes first, but shouldn't that mean after breakfast?

you can’t use logic on human behavior.

I had become a perfect fake human, saying the stupid and pointless things that humans say to each other all day long.

Since I am not actually a real human being, my emotional responses are generally limited to what I have learned to fake.

The key to a happy life is to have accomplishments to be proud of and purpose to look forward to, and at the moment I had both. How wonderful it was to be me.

Of course, having information to use is one thing. Knowing what it means and how to use it is a different story.

It's terrible to have to depend on someone else.

I mean, really: what kind of person could possibly dislike me?

We can't always do what we think we have to do. So when there's nothing else you can do, you wait... No matter what... pressure... you might feel.

It’s always me, isn’t it? I’m not really a very nice person, but for some reason it’s always me that they come to with their problems.Oh, Dexter, a savage inhuman monster has taken my boyfriend! Well damn it, I’m a savage inhuman monster, too—didn’t that entitle me to some rest?

It's an odd term, girlfriend, particuarly for grown persons. And in practice an even odder concept. Generally speaking, in adults it described a woman, not a girl, who was willing to provide sex, not friendship. In fact, from what I had observed it was quite possible for one to actively dislike one's girlfriend, although of course true hatred is reserved for marriage.

I was never more alive than when the Dark Passenger was driving.

Of course it was a terrible thing, and the world would be a much better place without someone in it who could do that, but did that mean we had to miss lunch?

It revealed a cruelty that really made one wonder if the universe was such a good idea after all.

It's that moon again, slung so fat and low in the tropical night, calling out across a curdled sky and into the quivering ears of that dear old voice in the shadows, the Dark Passenger, nestled snug in the backseat of the Dodge K-car of Dexter's hypothetical soul. That rascal moon, that loudmouthed leering Lucifer, calling down across the empty sky to the dark hearts of the night monsters below, calling them away to their joyful playgrounds.

And once again I found myself wondering, as I drifted off to stunned and unbelieving sleep:How do these terrible things always happen to me?

What do you want a clock for?” “To find out what time it is,” I said. “I think that’s the usual purpose.

It's always me, isn't it? I'm not really a very nice person, but for some reason it's always me that they come to with their problems.

It really is better to be lucky than to be good.

What a terrible thing life can be.

When faced with people who have very limited conversational skills and no apparent desire to cultivate any it's always easier to simply go along.

…a cheerful black shadow reared up behind him as he spoke, thundering a happy challenge to my Dark Passenger, which slid forward and bellowed back.

the faster it ran away from me. And I found myself reasoning that perhaps one more beer would unlock the doors of perception,

Still, it's always nice to be around somebody who thinks I am wonderful. It confirms my low opinion of people.

It’s an odd term, 'girlfriend,' particularly for grown persons. And in practice it provides an even odder concept. Generally speaking, in adults it described a woman, not a girl, who was willing to provide sex, not friendship. In fact, from what I had observed it was quite possible for one to actively dislike one’s girlfriend, although of course true hatred is reserved for marriage.