This story is about the Baudelaires. And they are the sort of people who know that there’s always something. Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small. And for this reason, I am happy to say, the Baudelaires were very fortunate indeed.

How do you forget something? You just walk away from it, those who are still alive. There are so few clearings in our hearts and minds, so few places where something can't grow on top of whatever happened to us before, and this is love too.

For Beatrice, summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you, is even colder.

The thing you hope will never happen to you might just happen to someone else instead, who has been spending their life dreading the thing that will happen to you.

I have produced things that I would say were sincerely cheerful. But then I am reminded by other people that no one else would see them that way.

Sometimes words are not enough.

There are times to stay put, and what you want will come to you, and there are times to go out into the world and find such a thing for yourself.