Halloween Town Quotes

“At the crisp, inky hour of midnight, Jack and I are married atop Spiral Hill in the Death Door's Cemetery. Wind stirs the bone-dry leaves, and Jack takes my soft rag doll hands in his--the coolness of his fingers calming the flutter rippling across my stitched seams.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

“And truthfully, Valentine's Town is unexpectedly charming--in an odd, sideways sort of way. No sooty sky or charcoal buildings teetering in the distance. No rotted skulls or jack-o'-lanterns glowing sinisterly in the dark, no cackling ghouls or demons or grim reapers with hollowed-out eyes watching us from shadowed corners. In fact, there are no dark places at all. Instead, everything is bright and confectioner-sugar-shiny. The air has a pinked, dreamy quality, a subtly sweet tinge, like rosebuds newly bloomed in spring or the first lick of pumpkin-pie filling on a spoon.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

“On the night of All Hallow's Eve party, I sew my own black gown using the Witch Sisters' chiffon fabric, and a crown made of forged iron and dove feathers from Valentine's Town. I stand at the mirror, pressing down the silky fabric along my ribs, still feeling like myself--like a rag doll, who is also a queen. Instinctively, I tug at the thread on my wrist, but beneath the seam, I feel the softness of cotton, not the crunch of dead leaves.
When I was born, my insides were filled with air-puffed cotton--Dream Town cotton. But when Dr. Finkelstein kidnapped me, he replaced the cotton with dead leaves; he wanted no reminders of where I was really from. But now I have filled myself with both: cotton and dead leaves. Because although I am the queen of Halloween Town, I am also a daughter of Dream Town. Made of nightmares and dreams. A little of both.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

“Across the street from the bed-and-breakfast, I open a small café where residents can sip cocoa lattes, eat raspberry tarts baked in Valentine's Town, and savor orange whipped toffees that Helgamine and Zeldaborn complain get stuck in their few remaining teeth--yet they keep coming back for more. Wolfman and Behemoth sit together every afternoon sharing a pot of black rose tea, delicately holding their cups between clawed and too-large fingertips, nibbling on coconut macaroons. I even sell my sleeping tonic at the café--in a much milder dose than what I brew for the Sandman, who still stops by for a refill now and then--in scents of lavender and chamomile, herbs harvested from Dream Town.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

“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.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“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.”
― Megan Shepherd, Hour of the Pumpkin Queen