Then again, if you opinions on women prevent me from carrying out my work, then I would be more than happy to suggest a place for you to stuff them... You're the bos... but YOU seem to be the brains. It's Abigail Rook, yes? Mind if I call you Abbie? Lovely. - Nellie

Give me some credit. You don't get far in my game with your eyes closed. I get it-who doesn't like a man in uniform? But trust me, men are never worth it. Behind every great man is a woman who gave up on greatness and tied herself into an apron. Romance is for saps, Abbie. You're sharp, and you've got pluck. Don't waste it.

It’s not about the treasure— it’s about the hunt. - Abigail

But you - you notice mailboxes and wastebaskets and... and people. One who can see the ordinary is extraordinary indeed, Abigail Rook. - Jackaby

Oh good God! You stared at the frog, didn't you?

Pavel. The pale man. The vampire. We talked. He didn't murder me horribly, no thanks to you. You were chasing after children at the time. - Abigail, to Jackaby

I guess I do tend to leave an impression." - Jackaby"More like a smoldering crater." - Bertram..."You've done something with the front garden, haven't you?" - Jackaby"Yes," said Spade. "We've let it grow back.

Excuse me! May I have your attention, please!" he called out, completely unnecessarily. Every eye was already on the mad detective, who was hunching slightly under the rearing hooves of the marble horse. "Yes, hello, everyone. Many of you know me, but if you have never had occasion to work with me-or to arrest me-my name is R.F.Jackaby.

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.

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.