I Am Half-Sick of Shadows (Flavia de Luce, #4)

by Alan Bradley

If that’s not magic, I don’t know what is!

I had learned by personal experience that grumblers are deaf to any voices but their own.

“Think of the billions of trillions of snowflakes, and the billions of trillions of hydrogen and oxygen molecules in every single one of them. It makes you wonder, doesn’t it, who wrote the laws for the wind and the rain, the snow and the dew? I’ve tried to work it out, but it makes my head spin.”

That was the way with ghosts, though: They appeared at the strangest of times in the most peculiar places.

Feely was holding court in the drawing room, and it pains me to admit that she had never looked more beautiful. I could tell by her lightning glances at the looking glass that she was of the same opinion.