The Grim Grotto (A Series of Unfortunate Events, #11)

by Lemony Snicket

Having a personal philosophy is like having a pet marmoset, because it may be very attractive when you acquire it, but there may be situations when it will not come in handy at all.

Although lately it has become more and more difficult to attend dinner parties without the evening ending in gunfire or tapioca, I keep a list of good and bad conversational openers in my commonplace book in order to avoid awkward pauses at the dinner table.

It is one of life’s bitterest truths that bedtime so often arrives just when things are really getting interesting.

It is often difficult to admit that someone you love is not perfect, or to consider aspects of a person that are less than admirable.

You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that happy things are tainted with sadness, the way smoke leaves its ashen colors and scents on everything it touches. And you may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has been burnt down.

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” the hook-handed man replied, using a tiresome expression which here means “You’re probably right, but I’m too embarrassed to admit it.”

But if you have something dreadful, and you force it upon someone else, then you have done something quite wicked indeed.