William Ritter Quotes

R.F. JACKABY
INVESTIGATIVE SERVICES
ASSISTANT WANTED
-$8 PER WEEK-
Must be literate and possess a keen intellect and open mind.
Strong stomach preferred.
Inquire at 926 Augur Lane.
Do not stare at the frog.

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.

Miss Rook!" His chocolate brown eyes brightened as he saw me, and he crossed the room at once to sweep me into a warm embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall. I could hear his heartbeat. He smelled like cedar.

"That will suffice," Jackaby grumbled loudly from behind me. "Yes, yes. You are young and your love is a hot biscuit and other abysmally romantic metaphors, I'm sure. You do recall that you saw each other yesterday?"

Charlie pulled away but paused to brush a hand gently across my neck. His smile was tired but gratified. I straightened and tried to will the flush out of my cheeks. "Normal people do occasionally express fondness for one another."

"Yes, fine. I'm familiar with the concept," he groused. "It's the bubbly auras and fluttering eyelashes that really test one's limits."

"My eyelashes do not flutter," I said.

"Who said I was talking about your eyelashes? Charlie has eyelashes."

"I apologize, Mr. Jackaby, for any undue fluttering on my part," Charlie said diplomatically.

How is Marie?"
"Walking already... Growing so fast. Calls me Da. She calls the dog Da too, and the neighbor's cat, but I try not to take it too personally... Who's she?"
"She's here with me," Charlie said.
"You mean she isn't," Dupin corrected. "Because you're definitely not here... Should anyone 'not be here' while I'm away, they would do well to make their 'not being here' brief.

"Walking already..." title="William Ritter Quotes: How is Marie?"
"Walking already..." width="913px" height="515px" loading="lazy"/>

If you're going to have guests," the ghost said with a sigh, "would it be so hard to give me a little advance warning?" Her eyes were dark with heavy lids. She had soft cheekbones and gentle features, framed neatly by twin locks of hair, which swept her cheeks on either side. The rest was tucked behind her ears and spilled down her back and shoulders in silvery waves, like a mercurial waterfall. She had a slim, spritely figure, and her movements were as smooth as smoke in a soft breeze. She placed the cup on the tray with a gentle clink, and drifted to a seat on the windowsill. Through her opaque figure, I could see the swaying branches of a weeping willow in the yard. "How

I can see why you're fond of Jackaby."
"Hah! He's as rare a breed as they come-that's the truth!"
Jackaby rolled his eyes.

I have ceased concerning myself with how things look to others, Abigail Rook. I suggest you do the same. In my experience, others are generally wrong.

Names have power... And he kept the one I gave him. My dear, sweet Jackaby. - Eleanor

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." We

Wood nymphs," said Jackaby.
"Not a real cheery lot, them," observed Hudson.
"In retrospect, a library is a rather somber locale for their kind. A bit like housing a man in a graveyard. Well, a bit like housing a man in a graveyard in which his people's bones have been mashed to a pulp and reconstituted into slim sheets, onto which one has scribbled a lot of silly words with pictures of monks and satyrs in the margins.

"Not" title="William Ritter Quotes: Wood nymphs," said Jackaby.
"Not" width="913px" height="515px" loading="lazy"/>

I might be better prepared to slay dragons, I decided, than to flirt with boys.

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

It would be really wonderful if all this could be a dream," I said.

"Come now, you'll get there. Focus on one aura at a time; that helps. What do you see when you look at me?"

I took a breath. "A kind of idiosyncratic bluish with a happy patch of crimson right around your middle. You're a bit dark - but also very light in funny little ways." I blinked. "There are also notes of a sort of rosy color hanging all around both you and Jenny. No, not rosy, exactly. How would you describe it - a buoyant sort of flush?"

"Buoyant is not a color," said Jackaby. "You sound ridiculous. But an excellent start! The sight will take time to understand. I'm here to help."

"I'm here for you, too, Abigail," Jenny assured me, putting a hand on Jackaby's shoulder as she glided forward to join us. "We can practice together and take it slow. It's the least I could do after everything you've done to help me figure out my own abilities."

I nodded. "It's nice to see that you're not having any more trouble in that area," I said. Jenny's hand was still on Jackaby's shoulder. The flush around their auras increased when I mentioned it.

"I'm not even sure how it happened," Jenny said. "I just needed it to happen, and it did."

"Not surprised about it at all," said Jackaby.

"Not surprised?" Jenny said. "Yesterday I couldn't so much as brush a hair out of your eyes, but today I reached inside your chest and held your heart

The most recent gentleman has proven to be far more resilient and a great deal more helpful. He remains with me in a . . . different capacity."

"What capacity?"

Jackaby's step faltered, and he turned his head away slightly. His mumbled reply was nearly lost to the wind. "He is temporarily waterfowl.

I never found a book that did not have at least a little magic in it

It's all about perspective, I suppose. As a rule, all of the various ogre breeds are on their best behavior here at the market." "This one looks as though he would like to break that rule." I swallowed. "He looks as though he would like to break it across my face.

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.

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.

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.

I'm beginning to think a dictionary would have been a far more advantageous birthday gift for you."
"More advantageous than being eaten alive by a giant, carnivorous bunny? Yes, most things fall in that category, I think.

Maybe if you would bother reading a book once in a while instead of hurling them about every chance you get, you would have put the pieces together yourself by now

He had the cheerful demeanor of someone who has been beaten about the face all night with a sock full of porridge - only

The greatest figures in history are never the ones who avoid failure, but those who march chin-up through countless failures, one after the next, until they come upon the occasional victory.

Monsters are easy, Miss Rook. They're monsters. But a monster in a suit? That's basically just a wicked man, and a wicked man is a more dangerous thing by far.

The only paths you can't travel are the ones you block yourself--so don't let the fear of failure stop you from trying in the first place.

Its a memorial, I said. What have you got in there that you could possible need at a memorial?

That sort of thinking is why you, young lady, have a scar on your sternum, and why my priceless copy of of the Apotropaicon has a broken spine. I prefer preparedness to a last minute scramble, thank you.

Oh no. He looks half-dead." Charlie's face paled as he eyed the trapper's wrist and the blood-soaked bandages.
"Indeed." Jackaby nodded. "And if we don't get him some proper attention soon, he'll be all dead.

Make sure she doesn't go touching all the evidence." "Make sure she doesn't go touching the scraps of blood and gore that used to be a sweet little baby goat?" I asked. "Yes," said Jackaby frankly. "That." "I

Nellie Fuller was racing down the stairs as we returned to the hallway, nearly tripping over her tripod in her haste. "I heard a noise," she said. "Have I already missed all of the excitement?"
"Nothing of consequence," answered Jackaby. "Stay indoors, however, unless you're enthusiastic about the prospect of being eviscerated.

The fish had kittens?

I excused myself to go see a duck about a dress.

Well, if we didn't sail together, how did you ever - ah, you must have snuck a peek at my luggage labels." I tried to remain casual, but leaned away as the man drew closer still, inspecting me. The oak countertop dug into my back uncomfortably. He smelled faintly of cloves and cinnamon.
"I did nothing of the sort. That would be an impolite invasion of privacy," the man stated flatly as he picked a bit of lint from my sleeve, tasted it, and tucked it somewhere inside his baggy coat.

I prefer preparedness to a last-moment scramble, thank you." We

Fight the monsters, then, Phillip. Don't fight the innocent bystanders who happen to come from the same place. You're not afraid of magic, not really. You're just afraid of what you don't understand - and too stubborn to try understanding.

My brick. My house. My whole wide world.

Miss Rook, on a scale of one to pomegranate, how dangerous would you say this situation has become?"

"Dangerous?" I faltered.

"Yes, Miss Rook," prompted Jackaby, in your expert opinion."

"On a scale of one to pomegranate?" I followed his lead, checking over the notes I had scribbled in my notepad and speaking in my most audible, serious whisper. "I should think ... acorn? Possibly badger. Time alone will tell.

batch. They were stones. She's always doing that sort of thing. Protecting the city from the demons in her head.

I found a hat." "Your mind is both fascinating and infuriating, Miss Rook.

You don't lose yourself in love-you find yourself there.

I read the first few," said Jackaby. "I've instructed my duck to just file the rest directly under P. I left it to him to decide if that was for politics or paranoia.

So often," Jackaby said, "people think that when we arrive at a crossroads, we can choose only one path, but - as I have often and articulately postulated - people are stupid. We're not walking the path. We are the path. We are all of the roads and all of the intersections. Of course you can choose both.

DO NOT STARE AT THE FROG.

Do you really think he'll still help you if you murder me?" I said, horrified.

Pavel snorted. "Do you really think he'll let the world burn just because you've died?" Pavel said.

"Try me," Jackaby growled.

Saint George's legend tells of the dangers of mythical creatures and the value of man asserting dominance over them. Manu's tale, quite conversely, stresses the value of mercy, coexistence, and peaceful symbiosis. [...] Marlowe is a good man, but he only knows how to slay dragons. The world is full of dragon-slayers. What we need are a few more people who aren't too proud to listen to a fish.

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

I guess I forgot about being frightened because it felt good to finally be in the adventure.

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.

I've nothing against people as a general rule, but people don't tend to have the sort of answers I'm looking for." The fence post just above Jackaby's head exploded in a spray of splinters with a resonating BLAM! A woman stood in the open doorway across from him, a plain white apron tied around her waist and a fat-barreled rifle in her hands. "Of course, people do have a way of surprising you from time to time," my employer added.

Come to think of it, I am already keeping correspondence with a dog, with whom, I must admit, I find myself rather smitten. Also, I'm secretly hoping Mrs. Wiggles ends up a full halibut when this is through, because that would save me a trip to the market... although if Hatun's troll keeps company with a tabby, perhaps he wouldn't much appreciate a meal that used to be a cat."
Jackaby stared "I've already ruined you, haven't I?"
"Looks that way."
"And I suppose there's nothing to be done about it?"
"Not a thing.

Detective work is neither a happy nor a satisfying business, Miss Rook," said Jackaby, settling in as the amber buildings sailed past our window. "Marlowe will understand." "I don't understand at all." Commissioner Marlowe kept his voice low and even as we sat across from him the following morning.

That the battles are usually in her head does not lessen the bravery of it. The hardest ones always are.

This world is full of dragon-slayers. What we need are a few more people who aren't too proud to listen to a few fish.

We are not the policy department, except for those of us who are," Jackaby revised.

He might not have both oars in the water, but his course is sound.

Are those pictograms? What's that bit you just finished? The one that looks like a goose tugging at a bit of string?"
"That's a seven."
"Oh." We both looked at the board. I tilted my head. "Oh, right--I see. I think.

I know you might think it pointless, but I just wish I could fix it. It's bad enough to bungle things professionally and . . . well . . . romantically. It would be nice if I could at least get a friendship right.

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.

I wondered which was sadder, leaving someone to cry after you were gone, or not having anyone who would miss you in the first place

It's time." Jenny nodded. "I'm ready to know.

Hudson blinked, but then he leaned down tentatively and gave the doorknob an obliging sniff. "It smells like...metal?" he said.
"Not-I don't know-a bit saturnine?" asked Jackaby, "with a hint of stygian exigency?"
"You know what any of those words mean?" Hudson asked, looking to me for help.
"I think one of them might be a sort of cheese.

There is magic in your life! Not appreciating it does not make it any less magical. Yes, some of that magic is dangerous, but so are scissors and electricity and politics- and plenty of other completely human inventions!

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.

Did he orchestrate the reclusive redcap's rise to become a predator in public office? Plant the swarm of brownies on the mayor's lawn? Promote adoption of the Dewey decimal system in libraries across the continent? It's the not knowing I find most irksome." "The Dewey decimal system?" "It's gaining popularity. I don't trust it." "We'll

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

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.

This world doesn't need showy champions. It needs people who are good, people who do good, even if nobody will ever know.

All exceptional people are, by definition, exceptions to the norm. If we insist on being ordinary, we can never be truly extraordinary.

I whispered across the bars to Jackaby as I rose, "Shall I tell them the truth?"
"Have you killed anyone?" he asked, quietly.
"No, of course not!"
"Then I can't imagine why you shouldn't.