Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Mari Mancusi

Quote by Mari Mancusi

“In the meantime, you should head home. People have seen you with us now. And if we go down, I don't want to take you with us." Tammy looked at her for a moment, then gave a grudging snort. "You're a brave toy," she said. "I'll give you that." She paused, then added, "Just be careful, all right? A lot of people underestimate Christmas Town. But nightmares can lie in the dreamiest of places." "Well, that's good," Sally declared, flashing Jack a look. "Because it just so happens we have a lot of experience with nightmares.”

Quote by Mari Mancusi

Work

Sally's Lament

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Mari Mancusi
Mari Mancusi

Mari Mancusi, born on March 2, 1974, is a renowned young adult literature author from the United States. Her works, themed around youth growth, love, and adventure, are highly favored by young readers. more

You May Also Like

“She leaned toward the door, breathing in deeply, rejoicing in the moldy scent of death and decay that lingered on the other side. Ah, home, she thought as she dove headfirst into the abyss. After tumbling through blackness, she arrived just like before, this time plopping down in a nice thick pile of fallen leaves. She laughed in delight as she rolled in the pile for a moment, enjoying the feeling of fall tickling her cloth skin.”

“I can't help feeling a connection with Luna beyond just our being rag dolls. Both of us quiet. Bookish. Daydreamy. But whereas I grew up as friendless as a lone daisy in a graveyard, Luna has every chance to blossom. Besides, I tell myself, I'm not some lost stray cat hiding in the shadows anymore. Dr. Finkelstein was wrong. I am a queen, and I'm exactly where I belong-- with my family and Jack, who completes me in ways I didn't even know possible.”

“I'm honored that my parents trust me enough to take on their jobs when they retire, so how can I refuse? I am originally from Dream Town. This was my bed. This was my home. I can't just ignore my duty. But in a way, the scenes captured in these watercolor paintings feel like someone else's life. Halloween Town is the only home I've ever truly known. Whether or not I belonged there, I grew to adore it. The black cat's chorus of midnight wails. The silver glow of the full moon. The scent of fire-roasted pumpkin soup on an autumn breeze. I used to sit at my barred window in Dr. Finkelstein's house and watch the townspeople like they were characters in my own macabre little dollhouse: the Mayor wheeling around in his hearse. The trio of musicians playing a morose melody. The corpse family bringing in the pumpkin harvest with their lumbering gaits and rattling chains. They all became such dear characters to me, even if half of them never knew my name. And so, when I married Jack and became the Pumpkin Queen, it meant everything that they embraced me. There were bumps along the road, of course, but now I'm traipsing around that macabre little dollhouse village with them all. Dancing. Delivering potions. Making queenly proclamations. Even now, it brings tears to my eyes. I want to hold on to this beautiful feeling of belonging for all eternity.”

“Despite nearly drowning and narrowly avoiding a mermaid's song, I'm intrigued by this new world. I'm curious how their ruler determines what makes a hero and what makes a villain. It can't be as simple as which side of town a character lives on, if they have horns or halos or use swords or spells. There might have been a time when I thought good and evil were clear-cut, but that all changed when Jack set out to save Christmas and ended up ruining it instead. He became the villain instead of the hero he yearned to be. And what about me? I live in a world of monsters who, by most reckonings, would be considered villains. Yet that's the last way I think about gentle Behemoth, sweet little Zero, friendly Undersea Gal. Do they think of me as a hero simply because I come from a land of sweet dreams? Of course not. If they look at me with any admiration, it's because of my efforts as queen, not the crown alone.”

“If you reach a brick wall, don’t bang your head on it. You will only hurt yourself. The longer you keep banging, the more blood there will be. It is there for a reason. The road ahead wasn’t going to work. Wipe the blood away, dust yourself down, dry your tears, and take a moment to assimilate your loss. Then, turn in a different direction and keep moving. Up ahead, unbeknown to you, is a clear road waiting for your footsteps.”

“Crisp autumn leaves whip our faces, but then, we break free from the canopy. Nothing but vast sky surrounds us above and all around. Below, Fable Town stretches as far as my eyes can see. Adjusting his satchel strap around his chest, Scorch straightens out his flight path to run parallel to the ground. We skim the clouds over dwarfs' cottages and fairy rings of red-capped mushrooms. Scorch crests a hill, and the impenetrable canopy of trees that makes up Villain Village stretches beneath us. In the distance, the spire of a crumbling, dark castle rises over a tangled, thorny thicket. A salty breeze ruffles my eyelashes, and before I know it, Scorch plunges down a cliff and flies us over the Fabled Sea. I spot the deep blue water where we fell. The half-submersed shipwreck. The beach where we collapsed in tearful, soggy joy. We fly over a rocky promontory where the mermaid warbles her siren song up at us, but the wind blows away her words before she can ensnare us.”

“Look,” I began, “I get it. You don’t like me, but—” “I don’t like you?” He let out a low, flat laugh. One fell into the next, and it was awful—not at all him. He was half choking on them as he turned around, shaking his head. It almost sounded like a sob, the way his breath burst out of him. “I don’t like you,” he repeated, his face bleak. “I don’t like you?” “Liam—” I started, alarmed. “I can’t—I can’t think about anything or anyone else,” he whispered. A hand drifted up, dragging back through his hair. “I can’t think straight when you’re around. I can’t sleep. It feels like I can’t breathe—I just—” “Liam, please,” I begged. “You’re tired. You’re barely over being sick. Let’s just… Can we just go back to the others?” “I love you.” He turned toward me, that agonized expression still on his face. “I love you every second of every day, and I don’t understand why, or how to make it stop—” He looked wild with pain; it pinned me in place, even before what he had said registered in my mind. “I know it’s wrong; I know it down to my damn bones. And I feel like I’m sick. I’m trying to be a good person, but I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”