Baudelaires, Baudelaires. Wherever you go, I’m always one step behind you.
All of our stories begin in darkness with our eyes closed. And all our stories end that way, too, as we utter our last words before slipping back into darkness and silence.
Ah, cocktail hour. When the sky is gold with the promise of fortunes and sparkling with the light of a thousand stolen sapphires.
A library is like an island in a vast sea of ignorance.
A fish bone? Are you trying to kill me? I’m impressed.[to Baudelaires]
A fake doctor’s work is never done.
You see, a scheme is like a fire. Everything must be in order for it to work. You need matches, torches, an angry mob that won’t listen to reason, and the right sort of kindling. Orphans, for instance, tied to the wooden stake.
When you read an enormous number of books, you are going to learn a great deal of information that might not be useful for a long time. But then, suddenly, like a strike of lightning or a grand piano falling out of a window, an opportunity arises to use the information gleaned from even the most unlikely piece of reading.
What is bad news to one person might be good news to someone else. And sometimes, what seems like good news might actually be something full of sadness, misery, and grief.
We all learn bravery the hard way.
Unless you are a murderer or a taxidermist, it is rare to have actual skeletons in your closet as opposed to metaphorical ones.
Trouble and strife can cover this world like the dark of night, or like smoke from a suspicious fire. And when that happens, all good, true and decent people know that it’s time to volunteer.
