I am unlovable...I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing and sooner or later the other person catches me Acting or one of Those Nights comes along.

And so as much as I can, I care about her, dear Deborah. It's probably not love, but I would rather she were happy.

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

The whole point of wearing a disguise was to be seen wearing her.

It happens; incompetence is rewarded more often than not.

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

you can’t use logic on human behavior.