A Series of Unfortunate Events Collection: Books 1–13 with Bonus Material

This, however, seemed unlikely, as the world, no matter how monstrously it may be threatened, has never been known to succumb entirely

You’d think we would have had enough treachery for a lifetime,” Klaus said, “but there’s more to life than safety

I am heartbroken, but I have been heartbroken before, and this might be the best for which I can hope

One cannot spend forever sitting and solving the mysteries of one’s history, and no matter how much one reads, the whole story can never be told

While reading and writing, the siblings found many answers for which they had been looking, although each answer, of course, only brought forth another mystery

In any case, this is how all our stories begin, in darkness with our eyes closed, and all our stories end the same way, too, with all of us uttering some last words—or perhaps someone else’s—before slipping back into darkness as our series of unfortunate events comes to an end

You did not yet know the people who were helping you make your way here, or the people who would shelter you as your life began, when you were even smaller and more delicate and demanding than you are now. It seems strange that you would do such a thing, and leave yourself in the care of strangers for so long, only gradually opening your eyes to see what all the fuss was about, and yet this is the way nearly everyone comes into the world.

It is likely your own eyes were closed when you were born, so that you left the safe place of your mother’s womb—or, if you are a seahorse, your father’s yolk sac—and joined the treachery of the world without seeing exactly where you were going

Sunny held Kit, and Violet held Klaus, and for a minute the four castaways did nothing but weep, letting their tears run down their faces and into the sea, which some have said is nothing but a library of all the tears in history

There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.