26 Quotes About Jackaby

It wasn’t that I did not believe in ghosts; it was that I believed in them in the same noncommittal way that I believed in giant squids or lucky coins or Belgium. They were things that probably existed, but I had never given any occasion to really care one way or another.

Does this smell like paprika or gunpowder to you?

Don't feel too bad" I offered. "I met him face-to-face, and I missed it, too.""Yes, but no one expected you to be clever Miss Rook.""Thanks for that," I said

Is it...Richard Frederic?""No, and I am not going to--""Russell Francis?""No. You're being--""Rumpelstiltskin Finnegan?"Jackaby sighed. "Yes, Miss Rook. Rumpelstiltskin. You've found me out. I am the devious imp of the fairy tales.

I don’t exactly believe in all this… this… this occult business. I don’t believe in house spirits, or goblins, or Santa Claus!”“Well, of course not, that’s silliness. Not the spirits or goblins, of course, but the Santa nonsense.

So she’s just a mad woman?”Jackaby hesitated, and when he spoke, his answer had a soft earnestness to it. “Hatun sees a different world than you or I, a far more frightening one, full of far more terrible dangers, and still she chooses to be the hero whom that world needs. She has saved this town and its people from countless monsters countless times. That the battles are usually in her head does not lessen the bravery of it. The hardest battles always are.

Right," I said. My ears were still ringing slightly. "Did you just wake me with a policemen's rattle? You can hear those things from two blocks away.""A what? No, this is a grogger--it's an old Judaic instrument. It's used during Purim to make a deafening racket during special readings. Charming, isn't it? Marvelously raucous custom.""Knocking gently also works.""You have no appreciation for culture.

Miss Rook, I am not an occultist.” Jackaby turned on the landing and faced me. “I am a man of reason and science. I believe what I can see or prove, and what I can see is often difficult for others to grasp. I have a gift that is, as far as I have found, unique to me. It allows me to see truth where others see the illusion—and there are many illusions, so many masks and facades. All the world’s a stage, as they say, and I seem to have the only seat in the house with a view behind the curtain.

A young woman across the dock pulled her winter coat tightly around herself and ducked her chin down as the crowd of sailors passed. Her shoulders might have shaken, just a little, but she kept to her path without letting the men's boisterous laughter keep her from her course. In her I saw myself, a fellow lost girl, headstrong and headed anywhere but home.