We Have Always Lived in the Castle

by Shirley Jackson

“It’s wrong to hate them,” Constance said, “it only weakens you,” but I hated them anyway, and wondered why it had been worth while creating them in the first place.

“Afraid to visit here? I apologize for repeating your words, madam, but I am astonished. My niece, after all, was acquitted of murder. There could be no possible danger in visiting here now.”

A family gathering for the evening meal,” Uncle Julian said, caressing his words. “Never supposing it was to be our last.” “Arsenic in the sugar,” Mrs. Wright said, carried away, hopelessly lost to all decorum. “I used that sugar.” Uncle Julian shook his finger at her. “I used that sugar myself, on my blackberries. Luckily,” and he smiled blandly, “fate intervened. Some of us, that day, she led inexorably through the gates of death. Some of us, innocent and unsuspecting, took, unwillingly, that one last step to oblivion. Some of us took very little sugar.” “I never touch berries,” Constance said; she looked directly at Mrs. Wright and said soberly, “I rarely take sugar on anything. Even now.”

“You should have let me take him to the moon,” I said.

i mean she def murdered everyone right

Charles is intrepid. Your cooking, although it is of a very high standard indeed, has certain disadvantages.” “I’m not afraid to eat anything Constance cooks,” Charles said. “Really?” said Uncle Julian. “I congratulate you. I was referring to the effect a weighty meal like pancakes is apt to have on a delicate stomach. I suppose your reference was to arsenic.”