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- Boys could be so stupid sometimes, and George was no exception.
- Lee Fan pretended to be interested in Ling’s stack of library books. “What are you reading now?” “Ways to poison without detection,” Ling muttered.
- She wished she could tell them the truth: The dead were easy to talk to; it was the living she didn’t like.
- she hated George a little bit for being so naive, for thinking that a good dream could mean anything other than a night’s escape from reality until the morning came. For thinking that wanting something so badly was enough to make it come true.
- Evie put her hands on her hips. “What crime have I committed that has landed you on my doorstep?”
- Sam left with the Hungarian circus girl in tow. “She’s too tall for you,” Evie hissed. “I’ll bet she can bend,” Sam shot back with a grin. Evie kicked him in the behind.
- Down below, one of the Mystical Mediums had interrupted Will. “Dr. Fitzgerald, what with all these reports of Diviners these days, wouldn’t you say, then, that it is proof that God Almighty has singled out America as a place for the Divine? For the exceptional, just like Jake Marlowe says?” “I suppose that depends upon your definition of exceptional.” “I mean exceptional, sir! The exceptional nation built upon ideals of peace, fairness, and the promise of prosperity.” Will glanced up at the ceiling mural of beautiful hills, the railroad crisscrossing the verdant nation, the rivers with their original names long forgotten. “I would argue that every country is built upon dreams and violence. Both leave scars. America is certainly no exception to this.” “That doesn’t sound very patriotic to me,” a woman grumbled to her seatmate.
- “I would argue that every country is built upon dreams and violence. Both leave scars. America is certainly no exception to this.” “That doesn’t sound very patriotic to me,” a woman grumbled to her seatmate.
- “Me? How come I gotta go? C’mon, Freddy. It’s cold out there. If I get sick, half the girls in New York will be crying their eyes out.” “No doubt the other half will volunteer to dig your grave.”
- Evie raised an eyebrow. “Your mother thinks I’m the Devil.”
- “I was rescuing a bunch of nuns from a burning church.” “You probably set the fire to get the story,” Evie shot back.
- “They’ll be dragging the river for your body tomorrow, Sam Lloyd,” she hissed
- Sam laced his fingers and leaned his elbows on the table, inching his face closer to Evie’s. “Yeah? What do I get out of this deal, Baby Vamp?” “I agree not to kill you,” Evie said around a mouthful of bread. She twirled the butter knife between her fingers.
- Sam held up a photograph with a gauzy white smear in the background. “Is this a spirit photograph, or is that mayonnaise?”
- Evie narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.” “If I were the last man on earth it’d be because you drove the other poor suckers to early graves. Read.”
- “Sam, how is it that you can take a perfectly ordinary day and turn it crossways?” Evie asked, rubbing her temples. Sam grinned and spread his hands wide. “Everybody’s got a talent, kid.”
- Nothing made a man richer than exploiting another man’s fears.
- “The dead do not frighten me. Takes the living to do that,”
- I do not know whether or not the fires of hell actually exist, but I can tell you that, if so, the cotton fields of Louisiana on a hot summer’s day are good practice for those torments.
- From behind the stacks, Jericho watched Mabel at work. Her blue dress was smudged with dust, but she hadn’t made a fuss about it. Of course she wouldn’t. Mabel Rebecca Rose was too solid for that. Her only crime was being sweet on him. Why couldn’t he return her affections in the same way? She was certainly smart and clever. How many girls knew about mining disasters and labor strikes? The bedeviling thing about Mabel was that she always seemed to do what other people expected of her. She was the very definition of a perfectly decent girl—earnest and helpful, with an unshakable faith in her constructed belief that people were, at heart, good. Jericho wasn’t sure he shared that sentiment.
- The bedeviling thing about Mabel was that she always seemed to do what other people expected of her. She was the very definition of a perfectly decent girl—earnest and helpful, with an unshakable faith in her constructed belief that people were, at heart, good. Jericho wasn’t sure he shared that sentiment.
- Jake wants money for his experiments and inventions in his quest to build an exceptional, unassailable America. Margaret, the victim of this country’s less shining side, wants to prove that all men and women are created equal. Rotke wants to understand the realm beyond this one as well as her own gifts. As for me, my ambitions are great but without form. I don’t know what I want, save for the one woman I cannot have.
- As for me, my ambitions are great but without form. I don’t know what I want, save for the one woman I cannot have.
- The way she looked at him just then, with a mixture of curiosity, affection, and admiration, was rather nice. Maybe it would be nice to be adored for once.
- “Mabel!” Jericho bounded down the steps after her. “Would you like to go to dinner or to the pictures sometime?” Mabel’s face quicksilvered from shock to barely suppressed giddiness. “I’d love to. When?” “Oh. Um. How’s tomorrow?” Mabel grinned. “Tomorrow’s perfect.” “I’ll come for you at eight o’clock, if that’s agreeable.” “Very, very agreeable.” Back in the quiet of the library, Jericho congratulated himself. “I have a date,” he said to the empty room. A date. That was good, wasn’t it? It was progress.
- Memphis had been plenty proud. And his fall, when it came, was as spectacular as the Light Bringer’s.
- “Don’t you carry any jade for protection?” Ling asked. “I’m plenty jaded all on my own.” Ling rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot. Find some jade. It helps me.”
- “I know just what you mean. When I’m here, if someone is having a bad dream, with a word, I can help them have a better dream. I can do something. In the waking world, I can’t even get my songs published!” “Are you sure you’re working hard enough?” Henry raised both eyebrows. “You are quite possibly the rudest person I have ever met. And I work in show business, so that’s saying something.”
- “Well, now, it wouldn’t do for me to tell you to go against your aunt. But you know how women do.” “Yes, I surely do,” Isaiah said on a sigh. The sound of the little man’s voice, going on like he knew about women, made Bill want to laugh. He reached out and ran his hand over the top of Isaiah’s head like a pleased father.
- genteel men in genteel suits spoke of “the mongrel problem—the ruin of the white race.” They pointed to drawings and diagrams that proved most disease could be traced to inferior breeding stock. They called this science. They called it fact. They called it patriotism. People drank their coffee and nodded in agreement.
- Witchcraft was her birthright, and as a young girl, Addie had read the accounts with great interest. There had been witchcraft, of course—the simple provenance of cunning folk, midwives, and herbalists: Superstitions practiced in the interest of safety. Curses muttered or occasionally offered with a bound lock of hair and cast into an evening fire to be regretted in the morning or not regretted, depending. But none of it had anything at all to do with the Devil and everything to do with the frailties of the human heart. Here were spells for healing loneliness. Curing the sick. Ensuring good fortune. Assuring safe passage on rough seas. Delivering babies into the world with a boon upon their brows. These tales comforted Addie, for she needed comforting.
- “That’s me. Say, how much of that coffin varnish have you had, Sheba?” Evie closed one eye and looked up at the hotel’s coffered ceiling, bright with chandeliers, her lips moving as she counted. “This is three. At four, we can play martini bridge.” She giggled. “Holy smokes,” Sam whistled. “Wait a minute: Are you waiting for me to get ossified so you can take liberties with me, Sam Lloyd?” “No. I like my girls fully conscious when I kiss ’em. I’m funny that way,” Sam said. He grabbed her glass and downed the rest of it, eating the olive.
- Sam put up his hands in a gesture of apology. “Okay. That’s fair. Abso-tive-ly fair. Let’s say the tables were turned. If I were about to walk off a cliff, what would you do?” Evie pursed her lips. “Push?” “I don’t believe that.” “You would on the way down.
- As much as Evie’s mother had loved James, which was infinitely more than she’d ever loved Evie. It wasn’t true that parents didn’t have favorite children. They did, and Evie had not been it.
- “Sounds like an advertisement.” “I suppose it is,” Marlowe agreed, laughing. “But why not take pride in this country? It’s the envy of the world. A place where any man can realize his dream. We, the dreamers, built this nation.” “The Indians and the slaves might disagree,” Jericho shot back.
- “So. Tell me,” Marlowe tried gamely, “what do you think is man’s greatest invention?” Jericho turned his head just slightly toward Marlowe, looking him straight in the eye. “God.”
- “I’ll see you at the egghead lecture at seven thirty. And seven thirty means seven thirty, kid. Eastern standard time. Not Evil-O’Neill-anything-but-on-time time.” “You’re one to talk,” Evie groused. “You never make it to the theater when you’re supposed to.” Theta tucked her clutch under her arm and held the hotel room’s door open with her foot as she yanked her gloves back on. “I like to give Wally the vapors, I’ll admit. But I’m always on time for my friends.” “Yeah? Well… well,” Evie sputtered. “Well, at least I don’t smoke!” Theta posed in the doorway. “You sure about that? Let’s set you on fire and find out.” Evie hurled her pillow at Theta, who was quicker. The pillow hit the door and bounced onto the floor with the rest of the garbage.
- “An interesting question. Have you ever heard of the shadow self?” Evie and Theta shook their heads. “It’s a dark side, isn’t it? Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, if I’m not mistaken,” Mabel said, and she took some satisfaction in knowing this. “Yes. That is so.” Dr. Jung blew out puffs of spicy tobacco. “Every one of us has a conscious self. This is the face that we present to the world every day. But there is another self, which remains hidden even from our own minds. It contains our most primitive emotions and all that we cannot abide in ourselves, all that we repress. This is the shadow.”
- Sam sat up. “I’m trying to understand all this—” “Don’t strain,” Jericho muttered.
- Harsh light streaked across Mabel’s fists. She could see every freckle on her skin. He’d chosen Evie. It didn’t matter that Evie was liable to break his heart, that she could never care for Jericho the way Mabel did, or that Mabel had volunteered her time to help with the exhibit. It didn’t matter that Evie could have any boy she wanted, and would. He’d chosen her. The realization sucked the air from Mabel’s lungs. Every day, Mabel Rose worked to make the world a little fairer. But the hard truth was that there was some unfairness you couldn’t do anything about. You couldn’t make a boy like you just because you liked him so very much. And tonight, as she’d watched Jericho with Evie, she knew the truth: Jericho was in love with Evie. Did Evie know? Had she known all along, even as she had encouraged Mabel and given her advice? God, she was such an idiot.
- It does suck being this girl, Mabel. They always go for the ones who won't love them as much as we would and that's on them. I feel her pain deeply, always being in the shadows and never being seen. Always a second choice, a last choice or no choice at all.
oct 4 2026 ∞
oct 4 2026 +
oct 4 2026 +