Best 34 quotes of Rob Thurman on MyQuotes

All I cared was that she had never lied. She was honest in a world just the opposite, and a cool oasis in my life. She was who she said she was, and everything Sophia, my mother, the pathologically manipulative liar, had never been.

As I stood, I took in a last breath of spring-scented air, listened to the birdsong, and then saw a member of wildlife the conservationists hadn't planned on reviving in this place. A perv in a white shirt and polyester pants. A standard hide-in-the-bushes-and-whack-it perv. Fat and balding, it was as appealing as watching a giant marshmallow go at it.

At least that's what his note said, along with a scathing reminder that dishes didn't wash themselves and the fungus in the bathroom was one day away from evolving into sentient life. I folded the note into an airplane and sailed it across the room. It ended up perched jauntily on top of the ancient television. It looked good there and I left it as a tribute to freedom-loving fungi everywhere.

Every inner touch, every one of its fingerprints on my brain, burned like acid. It shredded the walls of my soul like tissue paper, it clawed its way into my very center, I couldn’t tell anymore where it began and I ended. It poured into me like a river into the sea, mixing, melding, until we were one. One. For better or worse. Until death do us part.

Fall leaves are brilliant with gold and red. You can cup them in your hand and wonder at them, be amazed at their uniqueness and glory. But eventually they are gone, brown, crumbling, scattered on the wind. But the tree remains. The tree is what is important. The tree lives on. That was a difficult knowledge to bear, and an even more difficult life to live. Of course, being the leaf wasn't exactly desirable either.

Home is where the heart is or where you bury the ones you want to eat later.

I am your brother. I was supposed to be your brother before either of us was born. Karmic debt. It appears I was Vlad the Impaler or Genghis Khan in a past life.

I have people in my life, of course. Some write; some don't. Some read; some don't. Some stare vacantly into space when I talk the geeky talk and walk the geeky walk, but they make killer chocolate chip pancakes and so all is forgiven.

I raised another shot. "That sound you hear is the heads of moral conservatives spontaneously exploding in the distance.

It is now. It is always now. Now is good. Now could be the best. My name is Catcher. My name was Catcher. My name...my name... I am... I am lost, I am found and then I am free and I am happy. When I jump over that edge, someone leaps with me, shoulder to shoulder. I smell kinship on him. Kinship is all. I'm not alone. Never alone. I land, earth below me, moon above. I am wolf. We are pack. And that is all I need.

Leandros's favorite place had turned out not to be vegetarian, but vegan, which was for people who preferred their suicide slow.

Lies were like acid, corrosive: They could dissolve trust in a heartbeat.

Look at the ex-demon with his big boy pants on now.

Most kids don't believe in fairy tales very long. Once they hit six or seven they put away "Cinderella" and her shoe fetish, "The Three Little Pigs" with their violation of building codes, "Miss Muffet" and her well‐shaped tuffet—all forgotten or discounted.And maybe that's the way it has to be. To survive in the world, you have to give up the fantasies, the make‐believe.

Niko caught my hand and slapped it lightly down on the bar. “Pistol whipping elderly women isn’t precisely our mission statement, Cal.” I hadn’t been going to pistol-whip her. Yell at her a little more, then pick her up and toss her out into the street. Some risk of a broken hip there, but that wasn’t pistol-whipping… unless she tried to come back in.

People--stupid when they lived; potentially stupid when they died.

Pick up your clothes. I am not your maid. How do I know this? A maid cannot kill you with a tube sock. I can.

Pooh hater,' I muttered under my breath. 'Winnie-the-Pooh was not a koala--why am I even arguing about this with you?

Snap judgments? I'd gotten over those about the time I was toilet trained. Swore off diapers and faith in the human experience all in one week.

There are a lot of truths in this world. When it rains it pours. It's always darkest before the dawn. He who smelt it dealt it.

They don't have to choose either/or. They can have their cake and mutilate it too.

We all have our security blankets in this world. Some are just sharper than others.

What're you still doing up? You know all good little ninjas should be in bed, visions of homicidal sugarplums dancing in their heads.

Why is it always the world? Why is it never just half a block? Or Jersey? You know, something we could live without?

You're so very good at that. The temper, the scowl. You must drink shots of testosterone in your morning coffee.

Good Samaritans: Truth, justice and the American way–for them it wasn't only a comic book code; it was a way of life. it was admirable, courageous, and inconvenient as shit. -Stefan, CHIMERA

If I had a bad day, which, now that I ran my own life, was a helluva lot less than the old days, I sat on the floor with Houdini, placed a hand on his broad head, and soaked up endless doggy wonder. A full stomach, a well-chewed toy, a soft couch—through a dog’s eyes, that was a true glory that couldn’t be matched, the only heaven in existence. I missed the furball, missed him like crazy.

I found my fantasy in movies and she found it in mermaids, but we both knew you needed something. The smarter you were, the more you saw the world for what it was, people for who they truly were, those inside-out people, and if that was all you saw... you'd be in therapy 24/7. You needed to make your own reality because the real version could make you doubt humanity.

It's true. Goodfellow is monogamous. he's become a freak. A pervert. Depravity on the cloven hoof." "Or his balls fell off," suggested another puck who came to the bar. "Or his dick. Anyone who would hang out with Bacchus is bound to get a catastrophic genital rotting illness at some point.

I wonder if I brought my Silly-cat in…could you tell me what she’s thinking?’ ‘I can tell you what she’s thinking right now, no touching necessary,’ I drawled. ‘She’s thinking if she were three times her size, she would eat you.’ …Every cat that was awake when I’d smoothed its fur with a bare hand thought that. Every cat I touched that was asleep dreamed that.

Niko was a man of few words and flying, sugary snacks. I like that in a human. ~Catcher

Several months ago there was a somewhat, in some people's eyes, relatively normal Cal--or by and large normal--the best he was able to be as half Auphe. Occasionally he did lose his shit, attacked and ate deer while on road trips through the woods, created massive holes in between dimensions to shove through malevolently murderous pucks, and once in a while ripped out an Auphe's throat with his teeth. He also opened a gate or two to save his friends, blew up an antihealer from the inside out to save the world, cleaned his guns while watching porn, and generally was a smart-ass to everyone. Normal.

Spartacus," I called, "how's it hanging?" Probably not too well. Once you're dead, had your organs removed, and are resurrected as an undead mummified cat, your testicles probably looked like old raisins that had rolled under the couch. Raisins didn't tend to...hang.

The guy had guts—I had to give him that. Later on I was hoping for a first-hand look at them.