What do your parents know, about surviving?

Klaus sighed, and opened a book, and as at so many other times when the middle Baudelaire child did not want to think about his circumstances, he began to read.

After a certain age, you couldn't even say where you were from. You went someplace, and lived there. And then you went someplace else.

There are many, many types of books in the world, which makes good sense, because there are many, many types of people, and everybody wants to read something different.

It is almost as if happiness is an acquired taste, like coconut cordial or ceviche, to which you can eventually become accustomed, but despair is something surprising each time you encounter it.

The way that the stories go in the Snicket books is just the way stories naturally go to me. They're full of misery, and yet the misery ends up being slightly hilarious. And in terms of the warnings on the back of the books, that really started as an honest assessment of their marketability.

Take it back, Ed. Take it all back.