The House in the Cerulean Sea (Cerulean Chronicles, #1)

by T.J. Klune

“Sometimes,” Mr. Parnassus said, “our prejudices color our thoughts when we least expect them to. If we can recognize that, and learn from it, we can become better people. Lucy?”

“And that’s okay. Because even the bravest of us can still be afraid sometimes, so long as we don’t let our fear become all we know.”

“Arthur says that we should always make time for the things we like,” Talia said. “If we don’t, we might forget how to be happy. Are you not happy, Mr. Baker?”

As I said previously, the world is a weird and wonderful place, but that doesn’t mean it’s not without its teeth. And it will bite you when you least expect it.”

“The things we fear the most are often the things we should fear the least. It’s irrational, but it’s what makes us human. And if we’re able to conquer those fears, then there is nothing we’re not capable of.”

“There’s music everywhere, Mr. Baker. You just have to learn to listen for it.” He followed her gaze. Above them, trees swayed, the wind rustling through the leaves. Branches creaked. Birds called. He thought he heard the chatter of squirrels. And underneath it all, the song of the ocean, waves against the shore, the scent of salt heavy in the air.

Just because you don’t experience prejudice in your everyday doesn’t stop it from existing for the rest of us.”

“I’m just trying to build anticipation. Expect the unexpected! You told me that life is meant to surprise you. I’m trying to surprise him.”

To err is to be human, irrational or not. And while some mistakes are bigger than others, if we learn from them, we become better people. Even if we have spiders in our brains.”

“Because you told me once that if we can’t laugh at ourselves, we’re doing it wrong.”

“Humanity is so weird. If we’re not laughing, we’re crying or running for our lives because monsters are trying to eat us. And they don’t even have to be real monsters. They could be the ones we make up in our heads. Don’t you think that’s weird?” “I suppose. But I’d rather be that way than the alternative.” “Which is?” “Not feeling anything at all.”

“Even if he does hide under my bed one morning out of every three.” “Only because he’s still wrestling with what he was told he was supposed to be versus who he actually is.”

“Linus. I heard you had quite the adventure.” “Indeed. A bit out of my comfort zone.” “I expect that’s how most explorers feel when they step out of the only world they know for the first time.”

“Not something out of nothing,” she said, not unkindly. “It was just … hidden away. I knew what to look for because I listened for it. As long as you listen, you can hear all manner of things you never thought were there to begin with.

“Different doesn’t mean bad. Arthur says being different is sometimes better than being the same as everyone else.”

Talia is a rather grumpy child, but I have attributed that to her being a gnome. At least initially, given that’s what I was taught about her species. I find our perception is colored by what we’re taught. Even as children, we’re told the world is a certain way, and these are the rules. This is the way things are, and one of those things is that gnomes are bad-tempered and will brain you upside the head with a shovel as much as look at you. And while this might describe Talia on a surface level, one could argue that would be the case with most preteen girls. It’s not a species trait. It’s hormones. One only needs to spend the time with her to dive beneath the surface of those waves of bravado to see that she is fiercely protective of those she cares about. Gnomes, as we know, live in what’s referred to as a donsy. At least they did when their numbers were greater. Talia has made her donsy here.

Lucy and Talia immediately reached up and took Linus’s hands. “Do you think there’s a graveyard here, Mr. Baker?” Lucy asked. “I would like to see it, if there is.” “I told you I should have brought my shovel,” Talia muttered. “How am I supposed to dig up dead bodies without my shovel?” Perhaps Linus was going to live to regret this after all.

“Big man is right,” J-Bone said, coming up behind them. “People suck, but sometimes, they should just drown in their own suckage without our help.”

Hate is loud, but I think you’ll learn it’s because it’s only a few people shouting, desperate to be heard. You might not ever be able to change their minds, but so long as you remember you’re not alone, you will overcome.”

“Change comes when people want it enough, Mr. Baker. And I do. I promise you that. It may take some time, but you’ll see. Today has been a swift kick in the seat of my trousers.”

“A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?”

come after me because I could make their organs melt.” “We don’t melt people’s organs,” Zoe reminded him patiently. “It’s not polite.”

It was ridiculous, these thoughts. All of them. But thoughts late at night when sleep is nothing but a fleeting notion usually were. In the dark, all of it seemed as if it could be real.

“And I promise you, the thought of using you for anything has never crossed my mind. You’re too precious to put into words. I think … it’s like one of Theodore’s buttons. If you asked him why he cared about them so, he would tell you it’s because they exist at all.”

You fear what you don’t understand. You see us as chaos to the ordered world you know.

“We make mistakes. Constantly. It’s what makes us human, even if we’re different from one another.

“Life, it—it doesn’t work that way.” “Why doesn’t it?” she snapped. “Why can’t life work whatever way we want it to? What’s the point of living if you only do it how others want you to?”

“Regardless of whether or not you like to hear it,” Jowls said, “he is still what he is. That can never change.” “It can’t?” Linus retorted. “I refuse to believe that. We are who we are not because of our birthright, but because of what we choose to do in this life. It cannot be boiled down to black and white. Not when there is so much in between. You cannot say something is moral or immoral without understanding the nuances behind it.”

Came to your senses, did you?” He nodded. “I think so. Either that or they’ve left me entirely. I’m not sure which yet.”

“I popped my bubble,” he told her, needing her to understand. “It kept me safe, but it also kept me from living.