The Hostile Hospital (A Series of Unfortunate Events, #8)

by Lemony Snicket

For Beatrice— Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you is even colder.

This particular book, for instance, describes an especially unhappy time in the dreadful lives of Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire, and if you have any sense at all you will shut this book immediately, drag it up a tall mountain, and throw it off the very top STOP.

everything being fine is only one of many, many reasons why someone may not contact you. Perhaps they are tied up. Maybe they are surrounded by fierce weasels, or perhaps they are wedged tightly between two refrigerators and cannot get themselves out.

We visit people who are ill, And try to make them laugh, Even when the doctor says He must saw them in half.

We sing to men with measles, And to women with the flu, And if you breathe in deadly germs, We’ll probably sing to you.

Tra la la, Fiddle dee dee, Hope you get well soon. Ho ho ho, hee hee hee, Have a heart-shaped balloon.

Whether you have been sent to see the principal of your school for throwing wet paper towels at the ceiling to see if they stick, or taken to the dentist to plead with him to hollow out one of your teeth so you can smuggle a single page of your latest book past the guards at the airport, it is never a pleasant feeling to stand outside the door of an office,

“Pietrisycamollaviadelrechiotemexity,” Sunny said, which was something she had said only once before.

Just about everything in this world is easier said than done, with the exception of “systematically assisting Sisyphus’s stealthy, cystsusceptible sister,” which is easier done than said.

“I am Esmé Gigi Geniveve Squalor,” said Esmé Gigi Geniveve Squalor,

Like a church bell, a coffin, and a vat of melted chocolate, a supply closet is rarely a comfortable place to hide,

‘MURDERER ATTEMPTS TO MURDER MURDERER.’