Erin Morgenstern

“The night that seemed endless hours before is now slipping through your fingers, ticking by as it falls into the past and pushes you towards the future.”

“Misdirection is one of my strengths.”

“Before you leave, the fortune teller reminds you that the future is never set in stone.”

“A winner is not declared.”

“I know, interference is one of the very few things that is apparently against the rules. I do not intend to interfere, I intend to learn his systems so I can stop having to constantly manage so much of the circus.”

“There are tents, I am certain, that I have not discovered in my many visits to the circus. Though I have seen a great deal of the sights, traveled a number of the available paths, there are always corners that remain unexplored, doors that remain unopened." -Friedrick Thiessen, 1896”

“Have you ever thought about it, about simply leaving? Really, truly thought about it with the intent to follow through and not as a dream or a passing fancy?”

“Esse quam videri," Celia says. "To be, rather than to seem.”

“And yet I cannot be myself. You teach me all these things and then you put me here to pretend to be something I am not, while she is center stage, doing exactly what she does.”

“I would dearly love to read the reactions, the observations of each and every person who walks through the gates of Le Cirque des Reves, to know what they see and hear and feel. To see how their experience overlaps with my own and how it differs. I have been fortunate letters with such information, to have reveurs share with me writings from journals or thoughts scribbled on scraps of paper. We add our own stories, each visitor, each visit each night spent at the circus. I suppose there will never be a lack of things to say, of stories to be told and shared. -Friedrick Thiessen, 1895”

“I suppose The Beautiful Woman Who Can Manipulate the World with Her Mind' is too unweildy.”

“This card entitles the holder to unlimited admission is imprinted on one side in black ink, and on the reverse it reads: Le Cirque des Reves and in smaller letters beneath that: Chandresh Christophe Lefevere, Proprietor”

“I choose to do my work to the best of my own abilities, and leave others to their own.”

“Dear Miss Bowen, he begins. He hopes that he will receive another letter in turn.”

“the first archer lets his arrow fly, soaring over the crowd and hitting it's mark in a shower of sparks. The bonfire ignites in an eruption of yellow flame. Then second chime follows. the second archer sends his arrow into the yellow flames, and they become a clear sky-blue. A third chime with a third arrow. and the flames are a warm bright pink. Flames the color of a ripe pumpkin follow the fourth arrow. A fifth, and the flames are scarlet-red. A sixth brings a deeper, sparkling crimson. Seven, and the fire is soaked in a color like an incandescent wine. Eight, and the flames are shimmering violet. Nine, and violet shift to indigo. A tenth chime, a tenth arrow, and the bonfire turns deepest midnight blue.”

“Mercury. Lead. Antimony. A cresent moon sits at the nape of her neck; and Egyptian ankh near her collarbone. There are other symbols as well: Norse runes, Chinese characters. "It is part of who I was, who I am, and who I will be.”

“Mr. Ethan W. Barris is an engineer and architect of somerenown, and the second of the guest to arrive. He looks as though he has wandered into the wrong building and would be more at home in an office or a bank with his timid manner and silver spectacles, his hair carefully combed to diguise the fact that it is beginning to thin. He met Chandresh only once before, at a symposium on ancient Greek architect. The dinner invitation came as a surprise; Mr. Barris is not the type of man who receives invitations to unsual late-night social functions, or usual social functions for that matter, but he deemed it too impolite to decline.”

“I know, I'm sorry, "Bailey says. "What does exsanguinated mean?" The girl smiles. "It means draining all your blood," she says. "But they don't actually do that, I don't think.”

“This is all lie, she want to say to them. The dead are not hovering nearby to knock politely at teacups and tabletops and whisper through billowing curtains.”

“Look around you, he says, waving a hand at the surrounding tables. Not a one of them even has an inkling of the things that are possible in this world, and what's worse is that none of them would listen if you attempted to enlighten them. They want to believe that magic is nothing but clever deception, because to think it real would keep them up at night, afraid of their own existence.”

“I do not see as well without her. I do not hear as well without her. I do not feel as well without her. I would be better off without a hand or a leg than without my sister.”

“Marco:I have tried to let you go and I cannot.I cannot stop thinking of you.I cannot stop dreaming about you.Do you not feel the same for me?Celia:I do.I have you here, all around me.I sit in the Ice Garden to get a hint of this, this way that you make me feel.I felt it even before I knew who you were, and every time I think it could not possibly get any stronger, IT DOES.”

“He forgets that he was someone's dream once, himself.”

“She has gathered that the man in the grey suit whom her father called Alexander also has a student, and there will be some sort of game. "Like chess?" she asks once. "No," her father says. "Not like chess.”

“El pasado se queda contigo en la forma en que el azúcar en polvo se queda en tus dedos. Algunos pueden sacárselo de encima pero todavía esta allí, los eventos y las cosas que te empujaron adonde estás ahora.”

“Celia." he says without looking up at her, "why do we wind our watch?""Because everything requires energy," she recites obediently, eyes still focused on her hand. "We must put effort and energy into anything we wish to change.”

“It is a matter of perspective, between opponent and partner… You step to the side and the same person can be either or both or something else entirely.”

“No hay doncellas que necesiten ser rescatadas. La mayoría de ellas son perfectamente capaces de rescatarse a sí mismas.”

“It is likely to make us think we are not caged. We cannot feel the bars unless we push against them.”

“Widge can see the past." Poppet says suddenly. "That's why his stories are so good." "The past is easier," Widget says. "It's already there.""In the stars?" Bailey asks."No." Widget says. "On people. The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it's still there, the events and t hings that pushed you to where you are now.”

“They seek each other out, these people of such specific like mind. They tell of how they found the circus, how those first few steps were like magic.”

“Magic," the man in the grey suit repeats, turning the word into a laugh. "This is not magic. This is the way the word is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it.”

“The sheep are in a terrible mood today as Bailey attempts to usher them from one field to another. They have resisted prodding, swearing, and pushing, insisting that the grass in their current field is much nicer than the grass just on the other side of the gate in the low stone wall, no matter how much Bailey tries to persuade them otherwise.”

“And before he can tell her to tell Widget goodbye for him if need be, she leans forward and kisses him, not on the cheek, as she has a handful of times before, but on the lips, and Bailey knows in that moment that he will follow her anywhere.”

“O tempo é uma coisa peculiar.”

“As pessoas vêem aquilo que querem ver. E, na maior parte dos casos, aquilo que lhes dizem para ver.”

“There are no more battles between good and evil, no more monsters to slay, no maidens in need of rescue. Most maidens areare perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience,at least the ones worth anything in any case.”

“Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.”

“The circus looks abandoned and empty. But you think perhaps you can smell caramel wafting through the evening breeze, beneath the crisp scent of the autumn leaves. A subtle sweetness at the edges of the cold.”

“It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.”

“„I forgive you for stealing my shawl.“She smiles as he laughs.And then she vanishes. A simple trick of distracting his attention long enough to slip out through the hall, despite the lingering temptation to stay.”

“Unusual yet beautiful. Provocative while remaining elegant.”

“The finished clock is resplendent. At first glance it is simply a clock, a rather large black clock with a white face and a silver pendulum. Well crafted, obviously, with intricately carved woodwork edges and a perfectly painted face, but just a clock.But that is before it is wound. Before it begins to tick, the pendulum swinging steadily and evenly. Then, then it becomes something else.The changes are slow. First, the color changes in the face, shifts from white to grey, and then there are clouds that float across it, disappearing when they reach the opposite side. Meanwhile, bits of the body of the clock expand and contract, like pieces of a puzzle. As though the clock is falling apart, slowly and gracefully.All of this takes hours.The face of the clock becomes a darker grey, and then black, with twinkling stars where numbers had been previously. The body of the clock, which has been methodically turning itself inside out and expanding, is now entirely subtle shades of white and grey. And it is not just pieces, it is figures and objects, perfectly carved flowers and planets and tiny books with actual paper pages that turn. There is a silver dragon that curls around part of the now visible clockwork, a tiny princess in a carved tower who paces in distress, awaiting an absent prince. Teapots that pour into teacups and minuscule curls of steam that rise from them as the seconds tick. Wrapped presents open. Small cats chase small dogs. An entire game of chess is played.At the center, where a cuckoo bird would live in a more traditional timepiece, is the juggler. Dress in harlequin style with a grey mask, he juggles shiny silver balls that correspond to each hour. As the clock chimes, another ball joins the rest until at midnight he juggles twelve balls in a complex pattern.After midnight, the clock begins once more to fold in upon itself. The face lightens and the cloud returns. The number of juggled balls decreases until the juggler himself vanishes.By noon it is a clock again, and no longer a dream.”

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers softly. The air between them is electric as he leans in, gently brushing his lips against her neck. In the next room, the guests complain about the sudden increase in temperature. Fans are drawn from colorful bags, fluttering like tropical birds.”

“I have had affairs that lasted decades and others that lasted for hours. I have loved princesses and peasants. And I suppose they loved me, each in their way.”

“So proper for a circus girl," Mme. Padva says with with a gleam in her eye. "We shall have to loosen those corset laces if we intend to keep you an intimate dinner company.""I expected the corset unlacing would take place after dinner," Celia says mildly, earning a chorus of laughter."We shall keep Miss Bowen as intimate company regardless of the state of her corset," Chandresh says. "Make a note of that," he adds, waving a hand at Marco."Miss Bowen's corset is duly noted, sir," Marco replies, and the laghter bubbles over the table again.”

“Memories begin to creep forward from hidden corners of your mind. Passing disappointments. Lost chances and lost causes. Heartbreaks and pain and desolate, horrible loneliness. Sorrows you thought long forgotten mingle with still-fresh wounds.”

“You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.”

“He does hesitate, just for a moment, but he knows he will hate himself later if he doesn’t at least try, no matter what might happen after.”

“Though I have seen a great deal of the sights, traveled a number of the available paths, there are always corners that remain unexplored, doors that remain unopened.”