Gillian Flynn Quotes

The phrase fuck you may not rest on the tip of my tongue, but it’s near. Midtongue.

They pictured themselves dashing around Manhattan, latte in one hand, cell phone in the other, adorably breaking a designer heel while hailing a cab.

Sometimes when you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them.

Sometimes the answer is at the bottom of a bottle,

I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. But we are working backward: dinner first, then drinks in one of the little nooks Campbell has reserved, a mini-closet where you can lounge expensively in a pl...

Sometimes if you let people do things to you, you’re really doing it to them, Amma said, pulling another Blow Pop from her pocket.

Sixty seconds is a long time to know you are dying.

She's a good girl (for a cunt).

Amma and I were sick just like Marian. It had to be made that obvious to me before I finally understood—nearly twenty years too late.

She hummed to herself because she was an unrivaled botcher of lyrics. When we were first dating, a Genesis song came on the radio: She seems to have an invisible touch, yeah. And Amy crooned instead,...

She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did.

This was back when the Internet was still some exotic pet kept in the corner of the publishing world—throw some kibble at it, watch it dance on its little leash, oh quite cute, it definitely won’t kil...

This morning he was stroking my hair and asking what else he could do for me, and I said: My gosh, Nick, why are you so wonderful to me?He was supposed to say: YOU DESERVE IT. I LOVE YOU. But he said,...

The truth is malleable; you just need to pick the right expert.

This man might kill me.

Sleep is like a cat: It only comes to you if you ignore it. I drank more and continued my mantra.

The women who came in groups, they were frivolous, fancy, boozy, ready to have fun. The ones who came alone, though, they wanted to believe. They were desperate, and they didn’t have good enough insur...

Lyle Wirth looked like a serial killer. Which meant he probably wasn’t one. If you were chopping up hookers or eating runaways, you’d try to look normal.

Ska, I said, swerving toward delirious laughter. Great.

Libby was a Christmas baby, which meant she never got the right amount of presents. Patty would hold one extra gift aside—and Happy Birthday to Libby!—but they all knew the truth, Libby got ripped off...