Quotes from Jonathan Stroud

What have they done to your poor arm?' - Holly 'Oh, don't worry, it's just a graze.' - Lucy 'I'm talking about the bandages. That's simply the most incompetent bit of first aid I've ever seen. Lockwood, George - how much dressing did you use?

But certainly the two best-known tales in the neighborhood - the key hauntings, if you will - concern the Red Room and the Screaming Staircase.' There was a profound silence, abruptly broken by an enormously loud rumble from George's stomach. Plaster didn't actually fall from the ceiling, but it was close. 'Sorry,' he said cheerfully. 'Famished. I think I"ll have another doughnut, if you don't mind. Any takers?

Here we go," the Skull sighed. "Cue crisis!

Unfortunately, the body within the uniform belonged to Quill Kipps, so the overall effect was like watching a plague rat lick a bowl of caviar. Yes, the classy element was there, but it wasn't what you focused on.

Do you remember," George went on, "what we found in the tunnels beneath Aickmere's? Aside from a massive pile of human bones." "I found Lucy," Lockwood said.

Whatever the cost, as long as you're in my company, be sure I'll always be there for you.

I see things . . . beautiful things . . .

In the meantime," he said, "There are ghosts to foil and lives to save. But right now, it's a lovely evening and I'm going for a stroll. That was the other thing I'd wanted, to see if you'll come with me?

Okay, maybe I'd been a little ratty, but there's something about rotting corpses leaping at my face that puts me a bit on edge.

This guy's a drag." I spoke under my breath. "He sure is." "Know what I suggest?" "Yep. And the answer's no. I'm not going to kill him." "Oh, you're no fun.

In my youth, I was always one for the dramatic entrance. Now, in keeping with my character, I gravitate more toward the subtle and refined. Okay, with the occasional feathered serpent thrown in.

I—though forced through lack of space to assume the form of a stoic guinea pig crouched between the girl's shoe and the glove compartment—was my usual dignified self.

There was a devotion to detail here that could only come with genuine affection, perhaps even with love.

But Holly the gun-toting, wild-haired madwoman of the night before was in there somewhere, I knew. It made me look upon her with fond affection.

Kitty shook her head. "You're wrong. Your apology isn't irrelevant and you're a fool if you can't see it. I'm grateful that you stopped Makepeace from having me killed. Now stop being such a wet blanket and try to think of something to do." He looked at her. "Hold on—was there a thanks buried in that pile of invective?

Isn't it hard to maintain an argument when you can read each other's mind?

George had his faraway look, the one that made him look like a constipated owl.

Lucy doesn't like orange juice with floating bits,' George said. 'You remember.' 'Oh, yes. That's right. They get caught between your teeth, don't they?' I was staring at him. My warm feeling had partially retreated. 'I'll take the orange juice. So Holly stayed over last night?' 'Personally I've always thought straining it through your teeth is part of the fun,' Lockwood said. 'You can pretend you're a blue whale.

I'm sorry, Miraculous One, it's difficult to think of new titles for you when you ask short questions.

The Evasive Cartwheel â"¢ © etc., Bartimaeus of Uruk, circa. 2800 B.C.E. Often imitated, never surpassed. As famously memorialized in the New Kingdom tomb paintings of Ramses III— you can just see me in the background of The Dedication of the Royal Family before Ra, wheeling out of sight behind the pharaoh.

What could it be? Not a date, surely—the boy's got eyes.

Take his appearance. There was something about it that acted as a trigger to one's worst instincts. His face was uniquely slappable - a nun would have ached to punch him - while his backside cried out to heaven for a well-placed kick.

Don't worry. I know we have our differences, but there's a lot of mutual respect there. If he hesitates, I'll sweet-talk him. He won't let us down." "That total and utter idiot," Lockwood growled. "That mustachioed imbecile. That benighted, blinkered jobsworth. He's a clown! A fraud! An oaf! I hate him." "How's the mutual respect thing going?" George said.

Can I offer you some tea while you ransack our place?' Lockwood asked politely.