Top 15 Darkly Dreaming Dexter Quotes

For the first time I could remember, I felt weak, woozy and stupid— like a human-being. Like a very small and helpless human-being.

I rose to my knees, mouth dry and heart pounding, and paused to finger a rip in my beautiful Dacron bowling shirt. I pushed my fingertip through the hole and wiggled it at myself. Hello, Dexter, where are you going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I don't know, but I'm almost there. I hear my friends calling.

And what did you do last night, Dexter? Oh, I played with my dolls while a friend chopped up my sister.

The mind picks some very bad times to take a walk doesn't it?

Weren't we all crazy in our sleep? What was sleep, after all, but the process by which we dumped our insanity into a dark subconscious pit and came out on the other side ready to eat cereal instead of our neighbor's children?

It took me a moment. I blinked, and suddenly it swam into focus and I had to frown very hard to keep myself from giggling out loud like the schoolgirl Deb had accused me of being.
Because he had arranged the arms and legs in letters, and the letters spelled out a single small word: BOO.
The three torsos were carefully arranged below the BOO in a quarter-circle, making a cute little Halloween smile.
What a scamp.

Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?

I did not like this feeling of having feelings.

But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn't sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.

Life's only obligation, afterall, was to be interesting.

And here I always thought morality was useless

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

Another beautiful Miami day. Mutilated corpses with a chance of afternoon showers. I got dressed and went to work.

Another dream. Another long-distance call on my phantom party line. No wonder i had steadfastly refused to have dreams for most of my life. So stupid; such pointless, obvious symbols. Totally uncontrollable anxiety soup, hateful, blatant nonsense.

Why do so many people start their messages with, "It's me"? Of course it is you. We all know that. But who the hell ARE you?