Dearly Devoted Dexter (Dexter, #2)

by Jeff Lindsay

There are still very few laws against thinking, although I'm sure they're working hard on that in Washington.

The key to a happy life is to have accomplishments to be proud of and purpose to look forward to,

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.

If everyone else in the world were to mysteriously disappear, I would feel irritated about it only because there would be no one to make me doughnuts.

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

Was this what it was like to be human? Were people actually so miserable and brainless that they looked forward to this—to spending Friday night, precious time off from wage slave drudgery, sitting in front of a television with a can of beer? It was mind-numbingly dull, and to my horror, I found that I was getting used to it. Curses on you, Doakes. You're driving me normal.

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?

I have always felt that it was preferable to think with my brain, rather than with certain other wrinkled parts located slightly south. I mean, seriously, don't people ever see themselves, staggering around drooling and mooning, all weepy-eyed and weak-kneed and rendered completely idiotic over something even animals have enough sense to finish quickly so they can get on with more sensible pursuits, like finding fresh meat?

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.