“I really hope you like this," he says again, and flings open the door. It's a glass room, a greenhouse, I realize. Within are tulips, hundreds, of all colors. Tulips bloom in the middle of July in Desi's lake house.… — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
“Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world sweetest cancer.” — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
The midwest is great because it hasn't been entirely claimed. There's more room to write about it; it's harder to write about New York,… — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
“My thank-yous always come out rather labored. I often don't give them at all. People do what they're supposed to do and then wait… — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
There’s something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold. — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
“The Victorians, especially southern Victorians, needed a lot of room to stray away from each other, to duck tuberculosis and flu, to avoid rapacious… — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
What a generous thing that is, I realize, for a husband to try to make his wife laugh. — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
I am a great believer in jobs for teens. They teach important life lessons, build character, and inflict just the right amount of humiliation… — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
“you'd literally lie, cheat, and steal -hell, kill- to convince people you are a good guy” — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
My imagination is more tweaked by imagining the lives of the people who were there before us. I don't need to give myself the… — Gillian Flynn Copy Share Image
