Jersey Devil Quotes

Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me they stick you out here where there are no Daimons and you don’t have a weak spot? What kind of shit is that? I live in Daimon Central with one hell of an Achilles’ heel that no one ever bothered to mention, and you live where there’s no danger to you and yet you don’t have one? What’s not fair with this picture? And then Ash asks me to come up here to save your ass and here we are dropping like flies while you’re Teflon. No, I have a problem with this. I love you, man, but dayam. This just ain’t right. I’m up here freezing my balls off, and you, you don’t need protection. Meanwhile I have a bull’s-eye on my arm that says, ‘Hey, Daimon on steroids, kill me right here.’ Do you realize, I put my keys in my mouth to pull out my wallet to pay for gas and they froze there? The last thing I want to do is die up here in this godforsaken place at the hands of some freaked-out something no one has ever heard of before except for Guido the Killer Squire from Jersey? I swear I want someone’s ass for this. (Jess)

But he had been the victim of the world’s most common crime—his youth had been kidnapped by a thing called time. It had likely also been raped, dismembered, and buried somewhere never to be seen again

A noise came from the phone that resembled the sound of a howler monkey having an ice cube inserted into its rectum

Oh, there’s no toll,” noticed Henry. “It costs twelve bucks coming into Manhattan, but I guess it’s free going back to New Jersey.” “That should tell you something,” said Villy crestfallen.

Such madness was strictly prohibited in New York, but not in New Jersey.

Calvin pulled the other end of the shower curtain open and stepped out of the shower, rubbing his eyes with one hand and reaching for his towel with the other. Only, instead of a towel, he found Jesus. Shaving.

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As such, it was clear that its only purpose was to remind the arriving shoppers of nature and beauty—presumably the same nature and beauty that had been struck down, killed, and removed to make way for the mall itself.

The Devil tended to do it better than his underlings. Likes to give the marks less wiggle room to get out of the contract. The lesser demons are so anxious to get any soul that they’ll promise the world and deliver Jersey. Of

The Devil’s coarse, mangled penis rose from between Heather’s legs. She was lifted inches off the ground by its turbid protrusion. Boring its vile gaze into April, it said in a voice as deep as a canyon and old as time itself, “For you.

THE YOUNG carpenter miserably regarded his fellow inmates. Some had been confined for so long that nobody even knew why they were there anymore. One wild-looking blind and insane man known as “Paul from New Jersey” snored quietly on the floor, with only a block of wood as his pillow. When awake, he wandered around naked and filthy. An appalled visitor, asking why the man had been left naked, found the staff unconcerned: “The keeper explained that when furnished with a shirt, the rats soon eat it off.

him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate this. I don't want to sell my soul to win." Steve placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're not selling your soul. Maybe you're just . . . lending it out for a while." She closed her eyes and gritted her jaw. Could she do this? Could she truly make a deal with the devil? Even if they survived, how would she then live with herself? Steve hugged her from behind, and Addy held his hands, silent, eyes closed. They made love—silent but hard, eager yet so weary. When she climaxed, she shouted into his palm, and she fell asleep in his arms. She never wanted to leave his embrace. In the morning, she walked through the military base. She wore no uniform, just jeans and a hockey jersey. She carried her rifle across her back, a bandoleer of bullets hung around her waist, and a cigarette dangled from her lips. Her helmet hung askew, scrawled with the words Hell Patrol. Her people walked behind her, just as ragged. She looked like a haggard survivor, bruised, scratched, her eyes sunken. But the fire burned

And when you make it big, find a mentor for dealing with success. I had Lewis Katz, a lawyer who went into business and got so wealthy he and a few of his partners owned part of the New Jersey Nets, the New Jersey Devils, and the New York Yankees. I mention Lew because he passed away two years ago in a plane crash and I miss him. I remember I went to Lew in 1995, after I first sold half of Wilmar, and asked him, “Lew, you’ve been wealthy for a long time. Will you help me understand how you deal with money and family?” Lew gave me some great advice. And he won’t be the last mentor I have. You think I’m done learning new things? It never ends! So go find some mentors!

one that looked like a cross between a child with Down syndrome and a goat.

Creatures like the Jersey Devil did not exist, he kept telling himself. But if they existed, Malachi did not want to be alone when he made the discovery.

But toward the end, Donald Trump’s negative rating with black audiences was the second worst of any celebrity we measured. Do you know who the only guy was they hated worse? It was ‘The Situation’ from Jersey Shore.

He caught a lucky break, got a tip from a CI, a schizophrenic who’s spent the last two decades creating a concordance for the Weekly World News, “the World’s Only Reliable News,” painstakingly cataloging and correlating everything from Jersey Devil sightings to Bat Boy, from Israeli mermaids to the discovery of an alien spacecraft at the bottom of the Baltic Sea.

Johnson himself experienced that. During the time he was an active member of the Communist Party, he was not atheist. He explained to the congressional committee, “I hid my religion. I committed the grievous sin of hiding it. I outwardly accepted the atheistic anti-religious program of the Communists, but secretly in my heart I retained my religious convictions. Of course, that was an awful struggle, an internal struggle, a struggle between two different and opposing philosophies, the philosophy of charity and the philosophy of hate. Sometimes I wonder how I did that tightrope walking.” In fact, added Johnson, now that he had left the party, he had joined a Baptist Church in New Jersey and attended church services in New York regularly.

What can I say?” I slowly turned and smiled up at Reed. “I guess I’ve finally found the kind of hockey player whose jersey I want to wear.

believe that

Julian wore his favorite good-luck red-striped soccer jersey. He was planning to make money to build cement walls for his mother's house. He was recently married, and he and his wife were expecting a child that October. His father said Julian had promised to "always behave with respect," and that he would do nothing to cost his father his feelings of pride. He had a note from his bridge in his pocket.

Before he could take a clear breath, another blast of oxygen left to rot burrowed down his nose and throat. Looking

The creature bleated like a wounded goat, which is kind of what its face looked like,

ascertain, Jersey had no knowledge of demonology. At this point, all I could do was tell her and her family that I was very uncertain about the case, and that, after I got home, I would be

I'm the devil," she continued, extending her hand. "You can call me Lucy.

Back in college. I traded my soul away to some kid I worked with. For a Tic-Tac. Wrote 'This is my soul' on an old receipt, signed it, and gave it to him.

These animals are not disputed but “hidden.” It is an optimistic mission statement. It would be quixotic to seek gremlins that exist no further than storybooks. Bigfoot exists, along with Nessie and the Jersey Devil. Their formal discovery will happen tomorrow, or next week at the latest, and won’t you feel silly when they are?

Uchenna Devereaux normally left her house with one shoe untied, half her homework still under the bed upstairs, playing air guitar, and singing a song she’d made up that morning in the shower. But not today. She opened her front door and looked down her street in both directions before slipping out into the cool autumn morning. She put her backpack over her shoulders, pulled the straps tight, and began walking, warily, to school. Yesterday had been a weird day. She had made a new friend named Elliot. He wasn’t exactly cool—he got nervous easily, he memorized entire books about things that could kill him, and he was definitely not rock-and-roll. But he was smart and funny, and Uchenna liked him. Also, they’d met a Jersey Devil and been invited by the school’s weirdest teacher to join a secret society. This secret society had very rich and very powerful enemies: the Schmoke brothers, two billionaires who owned businesses all over the world, and half their little town.

Born in Hammonton, New Jersey 1968… grew up in Shamong Township. A true Piney.

The Ryan Shay wearing a Devils jersey is much like the one I live with. Governing of his space, not letting anyone close enough to affect him.