Mary Jekyll Quotes

“For the first time, Mary understood the attraction of coffee. If you have been up all night, escaping from a burning mental asylum or fighting men who refuse to die when you shoot them in the forehead, or both, coffee is the perfect beverage.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“CATHERINE: I can’t write from Diana’s point of view.

MARY: Of course you can. You’re a writer; you can write anything. Just find your inner Diana.

CATHERINE: I don’t have an inner Diana.

DIANA: Ha! You wish. Everyone has an inner Diana.”
― Theodora Goss, The Strange Case of the Alchemist's Daughter

“BEATRICE: Do you truly not know who he was? Mr. Dorian Gray, the lover of Mr. Oscar Wilde, who was sent to Reading Gaol for—well, for holding opinions that society does not approve of! For believing in beauty, and art, and love. What guilt and remorse he must feel, for causing the downfall of the greatest playwright of the age! It was Mr. Gray’s dissolute parties, the antics of his hedonistic friends, that exposed Mr. Wilde to scandal and opprobrium. No wonder he has fallen prey to the narcotic.

MARY: Or he could just like opium. He didn’t seem particularly remorseful, Bea.

JUSTINE: Mr. Gray is not what society deems him to be. He has been greatly misunderstood. He assures me that he had no intention of harming Mr. Wilde.

MARY: He would say that.

CATHERINE: Can we not discuss the Wilde scandal in the middle of my book? You’re going to get it banned in Boston, and such other puritanical places.”
― Theodora Goss, The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl

“MARY: Are our readers going to know what the Athena Club is?

CATHERINE: They will if they read the first two books! Which they should, and I hope if they are reading this volume and have not read the previous ones, they will go right out and purchase them. Two shillings each, a bargain at the price!”
― Theodora Goss, The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl

“Cum mulieribus non est disputandum, as Cicero says.”
― Theodora Goss, The Strange Case of the Alchemist's Daughter

“MARY: My wrath! When do I ever get wrathful?

CATHERINE: It’s your particular kind of wrath. You don’t shout—you just get precise and icy.

MARY: That’s not wrath. I don’t think that counts as wrath.

DIANA: It’s Mary wrath. Your particular kind, as Cat said. Not that I’m scared of it, mind you. But it’s worse than being shouted at.

MARY: I have no idea what either of you are talking about. Alice, am I ever wrathful?

ALICE: Well, yes, actually. If you don’t mind my saying so, miss. When you learned what the Order of the Golden Dawn had done to me and Mr. Holmes—

CATHERINE: Oh no, you don’t! We have chapters to go before you can talk about that. Really, not one of you has any idea of narrative timing.”
― Theodora Goss, The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl

“BEATRICE: You make me sound so dramatic, Catherine!

CATHERINE: Well, you are dramatic, with your long black hair and the clear olive complexion that marks you a daughter of the sunny south, of Italy, land of poetry and brigands. You would be the perfect romantic heroine, if only you weren’t so contrary about it.

BEATRICE: But I have no desire to be a romantic heroine.

MARY: Brigands? Seriously, Cat, this isn’t the eighteenth century. Nowadays Italy is perfectly civilized.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: I don’t think you have dulcet tones. Dulcet means sweet. When are you ever sweet?

CATHERINE: My most dulcet tones. I was using the superlative. Everyone has a most something, even if it’s not very much.

BEATRICE: I think Catherine can be quite sweet when she wants to.

CATHERINE: I just don’t want to very often.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: How in the world are our readers going to know who Miss Jenks is? She was only in the first book.

CATHERINE: Then they should go back and read the first book. It’s only two shillings, at bookshops and train stations. I would have mentioned that, but you told me to stop advertising!”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“Dr. Freud said he would like to see me again,” she said, finally.

“I just bet he would!” Irene laughed. “He collects beetles of all sorts, and you resemble a gray beetle that seems ordinary, but shine a light on it and it begins to shimmer like an opal—blue and green, all cool colors for you, I think. You know, when all of you had just arrived here, I admired your self-control. Here you were in a strange country, determined to rescue a woman you didn’t know from a danger you didn’t understand, all because a friend had asked you to. You were tired from a long journey, yet there you were, coolly making plans. Then later I realized it wasn’t self-control at all—it’s simply the way you are, like Sherlock. He can’t help it either. When there’s a problem to be solved, he sits down and solves it: rationally, efficiently.”

Mary opened her mouth to protest.

“I don’t mean that you’re emotionless, my dear. I just mean that your emotions are, themselves, efficient, rational. Please don’t misunderstand me—I admire you very much and I would like to be your friend. But you remind me of Sherlock more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I think that’s a compliment?” said Mary. “I mean, I find him dreadfully aggravating, sometimes. . . .”

“Don’t we all!”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“Irene took a sip of coffee. “Ahhh!” she said, almost involuntarily. “I really, really needed that.” She turned back to Lucinda. “All right, tell me about your father. Your earthly father.”

“I have no father anymore,” said Lucinda. “He has sinned, grievously he has sinned. He has consorted with demons, and surely the Lord will send him down to perdition.”
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Diana.

“Hush,” said Mary. “You haven’t even finished what’s on your plate. Are you Diana, or some sort of doppelgänger? Because the Diana I know doesn’t leave food uneaten.”

“Go to hell,” said Diana, but she said it under her breath and stuffed her mouth with a poppy-seed roll.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“DIANA: You never appreciate me, even when I’m being nice!

MARY: It was nice of you to defend me like that, Diana. I did appreciate it, you know. I do appreciate it, even now.

DIANA: Well, you’re my sister. I mean, you’re annoying, and you have a stick up your—Catherine doesn’t want me to say that word anymore—but you’re still my sister.

MRS. POOLE: That may be the most affectionate thing I’ve heard you say, Miss Scamp.

DIANA: Go back to your kitchen, you old (unprintable).”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“CATHERINE: Readers who are not familiar with the tale of Beatrice and Giovanni can find it in the first of these adventures of the Athena Club, in an attractive green cloth binding that will appear to advantage in a lady’s or gentleman’s library. Two shillings, as I mentioned before.

BEATRICE: You would use the story of my grief to sell copies of your book?

CATHERINE: Our book. I may be writing it, but you are all as responsible for its contents as I am. What is the point if we don’t reach readers? And honestly, Bea, you’re not the only one whose sorrows are being recorded here. I mean . . . Bea?

MARY: She’s gone back to the conservatory. I think you offended her—seriously offended her. The way you offended Zora.

CATHERINE: Why do you humans have to be so emotional?”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: Cat, should you be writing all this? I mean, Irene still lives in Vienna. Her secret room won’t be a secret once this book is published.

CATHERINE: She said I could. Granted, she said no one would believe it anyway, the way no one believes Mrs. Shelly’s biography of Victor Frankenstein. Everyone assumes it’s fiction. She says people rarely believe in what they think to be improbable, although they often believe in the impossible. They find it easier to believe in spiritualism than in the platypus.

BEATRICE: So she thinks our readers might assume this is a work of fiction?

CATHERINE: Bea, you sound upset by that.

BEATRICE: And you are not? Do you not care whether readers understand that this is the truth of our lives?

CATHERINE: As long as they buy the book, no, not much. As long as they pay their two shillings a volume, and I receive royalties . . .”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: Catherine! Is it necessary to include such a detail?

CATHERINE: Do you expect our readers to believe that we had no bodily needs or functions for entire days at a time?

MARY: No, but such things are simply—unstated. They go without saying.

CATHERINE: It’s very fashionable now to include realistic details, no matter how unpleasant or improper. Look at the French writers. Look at Émile Zola.

MARY: We are not French.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: Renaissance, not medieval. Most of the castle was built during the sixteenth century, although I believe its foundations date from the fourteenth.

CATHERINE: And our readers will care why?

MARY: You may not care for accuracy, but I do—and Carmilla will, when she reads this book.

CATHERINE: If I ever get the damn thing written, with all these interruptions!”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: It’s called a Schloss. That’s what small castles are called in Styria, Laura told me.

CATHERINE: Yes, but do you think our English readers are going to know that? Or our American readers? I’m hoping for some American sales, if the deal with Collier & Son comes through, and there are no Schlosses in America—just teepees and department stores.

BEATRICE: The slaughter of the native population is a shameful stain on American history. Clarence says—

CATHERINE: For goodness’ sake, how are we going to sell to readers in the United States if you go on about the slaughter of the native Americans? Who’s going to want to read about that?

BEATRICE: Those who do not want to read about it are exactly those who should be made aware, Catherine. This may be a story of our adventures, but we must not shy away from confronting the difficult issues of the times. Literature exists to educate as well as entertain, after all.

DIANA: You all went from Schlosses to teepees to a political discussion, and you think I ramble?”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“CATHERINE: All these questions, and more, will be answered in the third volume of these adventures of the Athena Club, assuming this volume sells sufficiently well—two shillings in bookstores, train stations, and directly from the publisher. And should anyone wish to bring out an American edition—

MARY: You really have to stop it with the advertisements!

CATHERINE: If our readers want to find out what happens to Alice, they will need to buy the first two books! Of course, if they want me to leave Alice in peril . . .”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“All right,” said Mary. “When do you want us to leave?”

“As soon as Diana changes back into women’s clothes,” said Irene.

“Why?” asked Diana, outraged. “I don’t want to.”

“Because you’re supposed to be neurasthenic and hysterical. No one will question that diagnosis in a girl going through puberty.”

“Puberty yourself!” said Diana, then whispered to Hannah, “That’s a dirty word, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that’s a dirty word.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MARY: Hysterical mutism is most often associated with trauma, such as an assault of some sort. I learned that in Vienna, when we were discussing symptoms of madness before Diana was—

CATHERINE: Could you please not spoil the plot for our readers? You can talk about researching symptoms of madness all you want when I get to Vienna. I mean when you get to Vienna, later in the narrative.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“MRS. POOLE: I would have done just the same as Alice, if I hadn’t remembered my training. A good servant never gives way to emotion, my father used to tell me when he was alive, bless his soul. You girls going so far away, and not knowing when you’d be back!

MARY: But we did get back safely in the end, Mrs. Poole.

MRS. POOLE: Eventually! But the worry I had along the way . . .

CATHERINE: Can you please do your best to not give away the plot? Like the fact that Mary eventually made it safely home . . . I won’t say whether or not the others did!

MARY: Oh please. If we hadn’t made it back, we wouldn’t be writing this book. The important thing is, what happened to us on the way?

CATHERINE: It’s unbelievable, what authors have to put up with from their own characters. Remind me why I agreed to do this?

MARY: Excuse me. We are not your characters, but fellow members of the Athena Club. And as to why you agreed . . . we need money, remember?

CATHERINE: Oh, right.”
― Theodora Goss, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman

“Mary.' The voice was familiar, but oh, so tired. Startled, she looked up. Sherlock Holmes was awake! He was looking at her with kind, grey eyes.

'I shot you. I almost killed you!' She wanted to make sure he knew that, her culpability.

'I know. I remember.'

'I don't expect you to forgive me. You could have died.'

He reached up and touched her cheek. 'Mary.'

'If you wish me to hand in my letter of resignation, I will, of course, do so. I can't imagine that you would want to work with me after—'

'Mary, come here.' He pulled her down toward him.

And suddenly, it seemed so natural, so inevitable, that she should lean down and kiss him with all the longing of the last few days, the last few months.”
― Theodora Goss, The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl