Ripper Quotes

Roses have both petals and thorns, my dark flower. You needn’t believe something weak because it appears delicate. Show the world your bravery.

For there are no limits to the stars; their numbers are infinite. Which is precisely why I measure my love for you by them. An amount too boundless to count.

Fear is a hungry beast. The more you feed it, the more it grows.

Wield your assets like a blade, Cousin. No man has invented a corset for our brains. Let them think they rule the world. It’s a queen who sits on that throne. Never forget that.

Expecting anybody else?' Shane asked Eve. 'Your distant cousin Jack the Ripper dropping by too?' 'Screw you, Collins.

There’s nothing better than a little danger dashed with some romance.

Catch me if I fall, all right?” A smile curved his lips in a most delightful manner. “I’ve already fallen hard, Wadsworth. Perhaps you should have warned me sooner.

Pretend I am as capable as a man? Please, sir, do not value me so little!

Keep calm and carry on. Also, stay in and hide because the Ripper is coming.

I was determined to be both pretty and fierce, as Mother had said I could be. Just because I was interested in a man’s job didn’t mean I had to give up being girly. Who defined those roles anyhow?

No doubt Jack the Ripper excused himself on the grounds that it was human nature.

Beyond life, beyond death, my love for thee is eternal.

Monsters are only as real as the stories that grant them life. And they only live for as long as we tell those tales.

I promise. I’ll be as silent as the dead.” “Ah,” Uncle said, putting a hat on and tugging it low, “the dead speak to those who listen. Be quieter than even them.

You are not mine to take.” He brushed his lips against mine. Softly, so softly I might have imagined them there. My eyes fluttered shut. He could persuade me to build a steamship to the moon when he kissed me. We could orbit the stars together. “You are yours to give.

I will gladly accept any and all books, however. A person can never have too much reading material. Especially on a fall or winter evening. If you’re feeling extra generous, you may include tea. I love a unique blend.

Hurry along, then,” I said, grabbing my orchid and securing it safely in my journal. “I want to sit by the window.” “Hmm.” “What now?” I asked, losing patience. “I usually sit by the window. You may have to sit in my lap.

Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper, distinctly heard the voice of Jesus telling him to kill women, and he was locked up for life. George W. Bush says that God told him to invade Iraq (a pity God didn't vouchsafe him a revelation that there were no weapons of mass destruction).

I refuse to believe you've misinterpreted my affections. I am wholly in love with you. And it is permanent.

I love you... More than all the stars in the universe. In this life and ever after. I love you.

If you wish to go, I’ll never make you stay. I might not do and say the proper thing all the time, but I do know that I love you enough to set you free.

Death was not prejudiced by mortal things such as station or gender. It came for kings and queens and prostitutes alike, often leaving the living with regrets.

Where’s you’re fuckin’ bitch?” Cox looked right then left. “Shit,” he muttered. “I thought I heard something earlier. Figured she was fuckin’ Ripper again. Fuckin’ hell. I was gonna ask her to marry me.” “You’re already married shithead. This ain’t fuckin’ Utah.

If I don’t murder you this afternoon, it’ll be a gift sent directly from God Himself, and I vow to attend services again,” I said, holding a hand against my heart. “I knew I’d get you to church eventually.

You don’t say,” he said. “Personally, I’d rather stay in, reading.

Monsters were in the eye of the beholder. And no one wanted to discover their hero was the true villain of the story.

The world is vicious.' Thomas brushed a lock of hair back from my face, his gaze thoughtful. 'The world is neither kind nor is it cruel. It simply exists. We have the ability to view it however we choose.

Humans were the true monsters and villains, more real than any novel or fantasy could invent.

You have very Grace Kelly-like tendencies about you. I hear Grace Kelly had a filthy mouth too," he added. "You love my filthy mouth." "True. But I like it better when its full," he said, meaningful smirk in place. "You know, if you would shut up once in a while you'd be damn near perfect." "But I'd be a silent panty ripper, which I think is a lot creepier than the angry-boss panty ripper.

Danny," Ripper whispered in my ear. "Three songs gone by and there's some old fuckin' bitch makin' statutory rape faces at me.

We were all here to learn. He was the one who had a problem, not I. Perhaps it was time for fathers to teach their sons how to behave around young women. They were not born superior, no matter how society falsely conditioned them. We were all equals here.

You scared of your old lady, Ripper?”… “Fuck you,” he shot back. “I ain’t scared of shit except havin’ nowhere to put my dick when it gets cold and sad and wants a motherfuckin’ hug.

Mr. Thomas Cresswell might not truly hold the title of prince, but the was perfectly fine. To me, he'd always be the king of my heart.

Aw, fuck,” Ripper muttered. Crossing his arms over his chest, the guy leaned back against the doorjamb. “Danny,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Shit just got real, baby.

Diamonds were everything I hoped to be; beautiful, yet containing unimaginable strength.

I love when you look at me that way." I searched his eyes. "How?" "Like you might possibly love me in the same extraordinary way that I love you.

What is a man's soul made of that a woman's is not?

It is a sad truth that we do not live in a world where differences are accepted.

You're dressed for sneaking about Dracula's castle. Be still my thawing, dark heart. You certainly know how to make a young man feel alive, Wadsworth.

Hearts were beautifully fierce yet fragile things.

Ripper was my rainstorm, my skin-drenching frenzy, where you couldn’t tell right from left, where all you could feel was the phenomenon exploding throughout your body, feverishly burning through you even as it pleasurably cooled.

Love strangles intelligence, even in the best of us.

The victims of Jack the Ripper were never 'just prostitutes'; they were daughters, wives, mothers, sisters, and lovers. They were women. They were human beings, and surely that in itself is enough.

If you’re not careful,” I said, brushing imaginary wrinkles off the front of my riding habit and breeches, hoping the flush in my cheeks would come across as anger and not embarrassment, “you’ll be the one dragged here in bits and pieces.” Thomas tilted my chin up with a finger, his intent gaze setting my skin aflame. “I do love it when you speak so maliciously, Wadsworth. Gives my heart a bit of a rush.

Thomas smiled at my eye roll, puffing his chest up and standing with one foot proudly resting on a chair as if posing for a portrait. “I don’t blame you, I am rather attractive. The tall, dark hero of your dreams, swooping in to save you with my vast intellect. You should accept my hand at once.

We needn't complete each other, we complemented each other.

The world needed to be better. And if it wasn’t possible for it to be better, we, its inhabitants, needed to do better.

Antique pages were a scent that should be bottled up and sold to those who adored the aroma.

When I was adventuring between the pages of a book, I wasn’t sad over things I was missing outside.

Damn, Ripper,” Cox said, snorting. “You’re so pussywhipped you need your old lady defendin’ you?” “Cox, don’t speak,” Kamie said. “It makes you less hot.

There’s something powerful in that kind of love, something that deserves to be kindled and tended to, even when its embers are flickering dangerously close to darkness.

Someone screamed; perhaps it was me. Though it would have made me happier if it were Thomas Blasted Cresswell.

Monsters could wear the smiles of friends while secreting away the rotten soul of the Devil in the darkest crevices of themselves.

Those who deserve respect are given it freely. If one must demand such a thing, he'll never truly command it.

You look quite lovely today, Audrey Rose.” He stepped forward, staring down at me, and I fought to keep my eyes from fluttering shut. Thomas drew closer until I was convinced my blood would explode from my body like fireworks splattering across the night sky. “Perhaps you should comment on the excellent cut of my suit. I look rather handsome today as well. Don’t you think?

Most stories are too good to be true. That's what makes them enchanting.

Mistakes were a learning experience, not the end of the universe.

Monsters were supposed to be scary and ugly. They weren’t supposed to hide behind friendly smiles and well-trimmed hair. Goodness, twisted as it might be, was not meant to be locked away in an icy heart and anxious exterior.

Some risks are worth taking, even if they seem impossible at first.

Love is immortal. Death can neither touch nor steal it.

You would miss me terribly and know it. Just as I would miss you in ways I cannot fathom, should we ever part.

Those who deserve respect are given it freely. If one must demand such a thing, he’ll never truly command it. I am your daughter, not your horse, sir.” I stepped closer, enjoying the way Father leaned away from me as if he were just now discovering that a cat, while precious and cute, also had sharp claws. “I’d rather be a lowly wretch on the streets than live in a house full of cages. Do not lecture me on propriety when it’s a virtue you so grossly lack.

At some point, we're all someone's hero and another's villain. It's all a matter of perspective.

What if" were the two most tragic words in existence when paired together.

We women could be called creatures, if only the men who said such careless words accepted our claws were fearsome things when we decided to scratch.

You do say you like a man with a rather large—” “Stop.” I held my hand up. “I beg of you. My uncle is right there.” “Brain.” He finished anyway, grinning at my reddening face. “You truly astound me with the direction your filthy mind travels in, Wadsworth.

The stitch ripper is your friend. Be one with the stitch ripper...

I’d like to see you carry on with a corset digging its bones into your rib cage,” I said, returning the favor and eyeing his clothing. “And manage a skirt still covering most of your breeches and whipping around your thighs in this wind.” “If you’d like to see me out of my breeches, simply ask, Wadsworth. I’m more than happy to accommodate you on that front.” “Scoundrel.

Sometimes we choose not to see things we know are true, simply because we wish to keep the fantasy of what could have been alive,

He knew Danny, she was a fucking chatterbox. She was always rambling on and on about music and clothes and some asshat named Chan-a-something Tater Tots.

Everyone makes mistakes, Wadsworth. There's no shame in that. It's how you go about mending them that truly counts.

As long as he has a house with two bathrooms. I swear to God, I don't care if he's Jack the Ripper.

Without lifting his head from his own journal, he said, “Not having any luck figuring me out, then? Don’t worry, you’ll get better with practice. And, yes”—he grinned wickedly, eyes fixed on his paper—“you’ll still fancy me tomorrow no matter how much you wish otherwise. I’m unpredictable, and you adore it. Just as I cannot wrap my massive brain around the equation of you and yet adore it.

I glared so hard I feared my face would get stuck that way. “If you ever try anything like that again, I will stab you in the foot, Thomas Cresswell.” “Ah. There’s something about you saying my name that sounds like a blessed curse,” he said. “If you can work up a good hand gesture to go along with it, that’d be exceptional.

How miserably hypocritical, you might say, but no sooner am I offered a chance to flee Hell than I yearn to stay. Few families hold their relations as closely as do prisons. Few marriages sustain the high level of passion that exists between criminals and those who seek to bring them to justice. It’s no wonder the Zodiac Killer flirted so relentlessly with the police. Or that Jack the Ripper courted and baited detectives with his - or her - coy letters. We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired.

He was in love. How exceptionally wonderful for him. I wished them both a lifetime of misery with ill-mannered children. I swallowed my annoyance down and plastered on a smile. “I hope you’ll both be very happy together.

Echo might be on the outs since she became a cutter and all, but she's still a popular chick. She'll bail on you and treat you like shit in the end." She took another draw. "There's only so many times people like us can have our hearts ripped out. She's a ripper.

She’s the muscle. I’m clearly the charm.

What a fortunate surprise, Miss Wadsworth." He took my hand in his, pretending to kiss it, and pulled an ink-blue rose from the air. "A rose for the lovely Audrey Rose." "Oh, wonderful." Thomas said. "Satan has decided to claw his way out of Hell and join us. I had no idea he did subpar tricks, though.

Curiosity was a disease that plagued me, and I'd yet to find a cure.

Society at large is staggeringly obtuse. If one simply looks to others for their opinions, they lose the ability to think critically for themselves. Progress would never be made if everyone appeared and thought and loved in the same manner.

However, grieving or being affected by something doesn't make you weak, Wadsworth. Sometimes strength is knowing when to tend to yourself for a bit.

You simply need to hone your powers of deduction, Wadsworth. Look at the obvious and go from there. Most people ignore what’s right before their eyes. They believe they see, but oftentimes only view what they want.

Such sharp words,” he said. “Your tongue ought to come with a warning.” “Truth is often compared to a blade,” I said. “I question those who marvel when it pricks.

I adore her in every possible way. Have you ever looked upon someone and felt a spark within your core? She makes me want to accomplish grand things. That's the beauty of love, though, isn't it? It brings out the very best within yourself.

But I'd be a silent panty ripper, which I think is a lot creepier than the angry-boss panty ripper.

shane:is your distant cousin jack the ripper dropping in for coffee. eve:screw you collins

If we weren't about to face another terrible passageway filled with life-threatening danger, I'd take you in my arms this instant.

Being an adult means accepting those situations where no action is possible.

Do not turn your back on a love that could jump the barrier between life and death.

Focus on how handsome I am. How much you want to press your lips against mine. And definitely do not panic, Wadsworth. If you scream, I'm going to join you, and then we're both in trouble.

This wasn't love. It was hate. And love. That fine line had been destroyed. Mutilated.

My heart raced. Part of me wanted to draw him into a hug and heal his wounds, and part of me wished to ferret out all his secrets and piece the puzzle of him together this instant.

It was as if the news itself wanted to reassure me. Even Jack the Ripper himself had reappeared as part of the greeting committee.

In that moment, I finally figured out what kind of handsome he was. He was fiction-handsome. Romance novel handsome; but not the clean-cut (billionaire) alpha male or even the tattooed (billionaire) bad boy archetype. He was the Scottish highlander, Viking conqueror, bodice-ripper historical romance kind of handsome; an unshaven, lion wrestling, mountain man recluse, toss you over his shoulder and plunder your goodies kind of handsome. He was both scary and swoony. I wanted to braid his beard. I also wanted to run away.

I long to live in a world where equal treatment is not something in need of commending

Magic is science. It’s simply a fancier term for showing people the impossible is attainable.

Why don’t you talk to me about what’s really troubling you? What emotional dilemma needs sorting out?” He patted his legs. “Sit here and I’ll rock you gently until you or I or both fall asleep.

Oh, how I despised remaining silent under such awful judgment. I’d like to remind each man who held such poor opinions of a woman that their beloved mothers were, in fact, women. I didn’t see any men running about, birthing the world’s population then going on to make supper and tend to the house. Most of them buckled to their knees when the slightest sniffle attacked them.

Hope is the true magic - its the spark and draw.

Normal is overrated.” Cassie nudged me toward the bar. “Extraordinary is unforgettable.

Pretending a monster wasn't there didn't make it go away. It only made one vulnerable to its attack.

Sometimes you need to stand out in order to blend in.

My love for you will be a constant in a sea of unknown variables. We may fight or be cross with each other, but our love will never fade or wilt. Trust in that. Trust in us. Forget the future. Forget worry. The only thing that terrifies me is the possibility of living with regret. I don't ever want to wake and wonder what life could have been like with you in it. I don't ever want to regret holding myself back from loving you as fully and openly as possible.

People often admire physical strength, but I believe it's the simple things one does after a tragedy that defines them. There is no greater show of power than continuing to live when you'd like nothing more than to lie down and let the world fade.

Hope in an invisible yet might force. Don't dismiss it's power.

Questions married other questions and had theories for children.

At its very core, the story of Jack the Ripper is a narrative of a killer’s deep, abiding hatred of women, and our cultural obsession with the mythology only serves to normalize its particular brand of misogyny.

I needed no man to empower me. I had my father to thank for that much; his absence in most everyday things had prepared me well enough to stand on my own.

You are my heart, my soul, my equal. You see the light in me when I’m lost within darkness. When I’m cold and distant, you’re as warm as autumn sunshine, bathing me in your glow. If I am the night, then you are the stars lighting up my endless dark.” His voice broke, wrenching my heart. “My best friend, the absolute love of my life, now until forevermore, I call you my wife.

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Uncle Jonathan to worry about prostitution being too much for my feminine persuasion, yet think nothing of me seeing a body spliced open before I’d even had my luncheon.

It is for them that I write this book. I do so in the hope that we may now hear their stories clearly and give back to them that which was so brutally taken away with their lives: their dignity.

I despise being the one having an emotional dilemma. It’s much more enjoyable being the one consoling you. You haven’t even offered to let me sit on your lap. You’re terrible at this.

I find myself striving to learn new talents, especially when the result is you looking—” “Radiant?” I guessed. “I was going to suggest ‘like you wish to destroy my virtue at once,’ but I suppose yours isn’t a terrible deduction, either.

Wield your assets like a blade, Cousin. No man has invented a corset for our brains. Let them think they rule the world. It’s a queen who sits on that throne. Never forget that. There’s no reason you can’t wear a simple frock to work, then don the finest gown and dance the night away. But only if it pleases you.

Since we place so much value on human life, why do we glorify, in a perverse sort of way, the extinguishment of life? The answer to that question, whatever it is, is at least a partial answer to why people continue to be fascinated by Hitler, Jack the Ripper—Manson.

Monsters were supposed to be scary and ugly. They weren't supposed to hide behind friendly smiles and well-trimmed hair.

Dear Wadsworth. Your association with me is growing more beneficial by the hour. Your intelligence is quite… attractive,” Thomas said, raising his brows suggestively and taking in my newly plaited hair. “Let’s have some wine and dance inappropriately. You’ve already dressed the part for me—let’s take advantage.

I wondered how I could appear so whole and serene on the outside when inside I was thrashing with turbulence.

One fact was slowly taking shape: I was in jeopardy of admiring Mr. Cresswell against my better judgment.

I was a young girl growing up in a world run by old men. I'd pick and choose my battles wisely.

His eyes are golden brown when he’s intrigued by something. He’s regal-looking and handsome, but he’s more interested in formulas and solving crimes than he is in me or poetry. He acts devilishly warm one moment, then frigid the next,” I said. “So there will be no children or any beautiful paradise in our future. Most of the time I cannot even tolerate his presence. His arrogance is… I don’t know. Annoying.

When a woman steps out of line and contravenes the feminine norm, whether on social media on on the Victorian street, there is a tacit understanding that somone must put her back in her place. Labelling the victims as 'just prostitutes' permits writing about Polly, Annie, Elizabeth, Kate and Mary Jane even today to continue to disparage, sexualize and dehumanize them; to continue to reinforce values of madonna/whore.

All my life I'd longed for freedom - freedom to pick and choose every detail of my life. To make good decisions and horrible ones. Decisions that would break my heart and remake it ten times over. I just never knew having choices could be so hard.

Those who deserve respect are given it freely. If one must demand such a thing, he’ll never truly command it. I am your daughter, not your horse, sir.

Passion and annoyance were fire, and fire was alive and crackling with power.

Always foster and grow that unquenchable curiosity of yours." I smiled. That was a promise I fully intended to keep.

Perhaps this is the purpose of all art, all writing, on the murders, fiction and non-fiction: Simply to participate.

Really, boy, unless you're ready to deal with the monster, you shouldn't go looking under the bed.

You may hate the truth, deny it, curse it, but the fact remains you are equally enchanted by it. Knowing the flames are hot isn’t always a deterrent from playing with fire.

The world is neither kind nor is it cruel. It simply exists. We have the ability to view it however we choose.

The promise of death was as alluring, if not more so, than the prospect of falling in love. What morbid creatures we were, craving danger and mystery in place of happily-ever-afters.

You've stared Fear in its nasty face and made it tremble. You will make it through this, Wadsworth. We will mange it through this. That is a fact more tangling than any dream or nightmare. I promised I'd never lie to you. I intend to honor my word.

Where in a medical dictionary does it say a woman cannot handle such things? What is a man's soul made of that a woman's is not? I had no idea my innards were composed of cotton and kittens, while yours are filled with steel and steam-driven parts.

Promise me to wake each day and find joy wherever you can, no matter how small it may be. There will always be hard times and trying times and times for sorrow, but we won't let those days destroy the here and now. Because right now? I'm here... And you're here... And the present is more glorious than the future and all its unknowns.

Life was beautiful even during the darkest hours.

Outside forces will always be out of your control. One thing you can control is how you choose to live. If you wake up fearful of every bad thing that might happen, you miss out on the good. Death will come for us one day. Worrying about tomorrow only accomplishes ruining today.

I can no longer sit back and allow Communist infiltration, Communist indoctrination, Communist subversion and the international Communist conspiracy to sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids. —Brigadier General Jack D. Ripper

Thomas Cresswell couldn't die. If he did...a darkness so complete as to truly be terrifying welled up inside me. I did not know who I'd become, should I lose him. But Satan would tremble at my approach.

Flesh-and-blood men were the real monsters, and they could be cut down easily enough.

BONE WHITE, BLOOD RED. ALONG THIS PATH YOU'LL SOON BE DEAD.

Let's play act a murder, Wadsworth.

Beware of trusting beautiful creatures. They hide the most wicked surprises.

Love was a tricky, complicated thing - so morally gray. Both grand and terrible things were often done in its honour. But could something truly be done out of love if it had the potential to hurt the one at its heart?

Mother used to say, “Roses have both petals and thorns, my dark flower. You needn’t believe something weak because it appears delicate. Show the world your bravery.” Mother

The dead speak to those who listen. Be quieter than even them.

Seeing the truth was never easy, especially when it revealed those closest to us could be monsters hidden in plain sight.

Whenever I scared him, he turned into some foreign person. One who was both frightening and frightened at once.

One needn’t be strong in only physical matters—a strong mind and will were fierce to behold as well. “You’re

I want our passion to ignite the stars around us, making even the stars jealous.

I’d agreed to meet him here only to go over case details. Now he was doing that infuriating thing where he’d inevitably guess my secret plans, and I’d have to murder him. In front of all these witnesses, no less. What a pity.

Death was not prejudiced by mortal things such as station or gender. It came for kings and queens and prostitutes alike, often leaving the living with regrets. What might we have done differently if we’d known the end was so near?

He reminded me of the caterpillar from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, sitting upon his giant mushroom, lazing about without a care in the world. If only he were small enough to squish beneath my boots. “That’s a disgusting habit.” “So is dissecting the dead prior to breakfast. But I don’t scorn you for that unseemly habit. In fact”—he leaned closer, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper—“it’s rather endearing seeing you up to your elbows in viscera each morning. Also, you’re quite welcome for the flower. Do place it on your nightstand and think of me while dressing for bed.

Do not relinquish your grasp on hope. It's one of the best weapons anyone possesses.

People were always providing in death what they would not do in life, it seemed.

Some ghosts should remain good and buried, Niece.

He drew back, feigning being affronted. “You can’t possibly have all the glory. Good looking and the hero? This is one of those times it’s all right to lie, Wadsworth.

Love makes fools of the wisest.

No matter how much death and horror existed, there were still things of beauty left to find.

He and I were two stars in the same constellation, destined to shine brightly together each night of forever.

Most people ignore what's right before their eyes. They believe they see, but oftentimes only view what they want.

Our hearts are curious things. So sentimental and easily misguided. Pull the right strings or snap the correct cords, and poof! Love strangles intelligence, even in the best of us.

Winning is an archaic way or looking at romance. Her heart isn't like a cheap round of cards. Love isn't a game. It's a choice.

Just as it did in the nineteenth century, the notion that the victims were 'only prostitutes' seeks to perpetuate the belief that there are good women and bad women; madonnas and whores. It suggests that there is an acceptable standard of female behaviour and those that deviate from it are fit to be punished. Equally, it assists in reasserting the double standard , exonerating men from wrongs committed against such women. These attitudes may not feel as prevalent as they were in 1888, but they persist - not proffered in general conversation... but, rather integrated subtly into the fabric of our social norms.

Dear Daci, I wish to ask for Audrey Rose’s hand and fear putting a foot in my mouth instead. The taste of leather soles doesn’t suit me. You know what I think of fools, and I’m the worst sort. Please help. Your massively intelligent yet moronic brother, Thomas

You fight. You fight for what you want. You do not wallow or surrender. The lesson in not in lying down and allowing yourself to be stabbed, child. It's in pushing yourself up and battling back." Her eyes flashed. "You fell down. So? Will you stay there, weeping over skinned knees? Or will you brush off your skirts, adjust your hair, and carry on? Do not relinquish your grasp on hope. It's one go the best weapons anyone possesses.

Their minds were crying out to be set free, but they refused to unbind them.

There were only the two of us left standing in a star-filled sky oblivious to anything but the way our bodies fit together like constellations. He was my match in all ways.

When you see the ugliness behind the tears of another person, it makes you take a closer look at your own.

Rules are restrictions given by other privileged men. I enjoy making up my own mind. Everyone ought to have the same human right.

I was beautiful and dangerous at once. A rose with thorns.

A heart was a curious thing. So contradictory. The way it ached in both good and bad ways. The way it leapt with joy and ceased with sorrow. It could beat madly and wildly during both pleasure and pain.

I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We’ve been taught that silence would save us, but it won’t. —AUDRE LORDE

Rory: "People are being serious." Jazza: "There's a serial killer out there. Of course people are being serious." Rory: "Yeah, but what are the chances?" Jazza: "I bet all of the victims thought that." Rory: "But still, what are the chances?" Jazza: "Well, I imagine they are several million to one." Jerome: "Not that high. You're only dealing with a small part of London. And while there might be a million or more people in that area, the Ripper is probably focusing on women, because all of the original victims were women. So halve that--" Jazza: "You really need another hobby.

I do agree that love is wonderful, I began slowly, not wanting to offend, but there's also a certain magic in being perfectly content with one's own company. I believe greatness lies within. And is ours to harness or unleash at will.

Everyone deserved to live freely and in honor of themselves. A basic right should not be a luxury.

How did you know?” “I…” Thomas swallowed hard, his attention fixed on the painting. “The truth?” “Please.” “You’ve got a dress with orchid blossoms embroidered on it. Ribbons in the deepest purple. You favor the color, but not nearly as much as I find myself favoring you.” He took a deep breath. “As to the stars? Those are what I prefer. More than medical practices and deductions. The universe is vast. A mathematical equation even I have no hope of solving. For there are no limits to the stars; their numbers are infinite. Which is precisely why I measure my love for you by them. An amount too boundless to count.

Men are keen on blaming women for the rise in sin. It's been something plaguing humanity since the Bible first accused Eve of tempting Adam. As if he had no mind to taste that forbidden fruit before she offered it to him. Everyone seems to forget God told Adam the fruit was forbidden. He created Eve later.” “Honestly?” I snorted. “I didn’t realize you were so well versed in religion.” Thomas placed my hand in the crook of his arm, steering us toward my uncle, who’d just exited the station. “I enjoy causing discord when forced to attend parties. You ought to hear the arguments that break out from uttering something so supposedly blasphemous. The one question no one can answer is always, if Adam had been warned, why didn’t he pass the message along to his wife? Seems he was more to blame than she was. Yet Eve is always the villain, the wicked temptress who cursed us all.

Thank you for the shoes, Thomas.” I looked at the stack of boxes, teetering precariously close to the edge of the settee now. He caught my stare and nudged them back to safety. “All of them. It was very sweet. And highly unnecessary.” “Your happiness is always necessary to me.” He tilted my chin up and kissed the tip of my nose. “We’ll find new ways of navigating the world together, Wadsworth. If you can no longer wear heels, we’ll design flats you adore. If you ever find those no longer work, I’ll have a wheeled chair made and bejeweled to your liking. Anything at all in the universe you need, we will make it so. And if you’d prefer to do it on your own, I will always step aside. I also promise to keep my opinion mostly to myself.” “Mostly?” He considered that. “Unless it’s vastly inappropriate. Then I’ll share it with gusto.

Her dress was made of watered silk and was of the most gorgeous lavender I’d ever seen. The stitching was superb. A flash of the last cadaver I’d sewn back together crossed my mind. Not to boast, but my stitches had been as good. Perhaps a pinch better.

As to the stars? Those are what I prefer. More than medical practices and deductions. The universe is vast. A mathematical equation even I have no hope of solving. For there are no limits to the stars; their numbers are infinite. Which is precisely why i measure my love for you by them An amount too boundless to count.

The crowd hopes for the impossible to become possible. It shows them dreams don't belong only in our heads - with hope those fantasies can become real. Taking hope away is like taking life from someone. We all need to believe we can achieve the impossible.

You'd discover your morals aren't defined in terms such as black or white, good or bad. Most shy away from that level of introspection. It makes us realize we're villains. At least in part. We also all have the capacity to he heroes.

What I’m talking about is trying to solve a riddle or crime. Emotions play no role there. They’re too messy and complicated.” He leaned on his elbows, staring into my eyes. “But they’re good in other situations, I suppose. For instance—I’ve not yet figured out the formula for love or romance. Perhaps I shall learn one day soon.

Men prided themselves on aging. They might lose their hair and expand their bellies and still be deemed a wondrous catch, marrying twenty years their junior. Yet heaven forbid a young lady grow into old age and be proud of the lines on her face; the very lines that told a story of a life well lived. The nerve of us to live happily and without apology.

Flowers need plenty of water and sunshine to grow. Love, too, needs attention and affection, or else it slowly withers away from neglect. Once love’s gone, it’s as brittle as a dried-out leaf. You pick it up, only to discover that it’s turned to ash beneath your oncecareful touch, gone on a swift wind forever.

Science never abandoned me the way religion had that night. Forsaking the Holy Father was considered a sin, and I did it repeatedly. Each time my blade met with flesh, I sinned more and welcomed it. God no longer held dominion over my soul.

I smiled, leaning over the desk and used the sweetest tone I could muster. "In my spare time I flay open bodies of the deceased. Two of whom were victims of Leather Apron. The scent that hung in the room would drop a man to his knees, and I aided my uncle during the postmortems while standing in gelled blood." I sat back in my chair, the leather squeaking its own disapproval. "Whatever you have to show us won't be too much for my stomach to handle, I assure you.

In the fantasy I spun for myself that night before falling asleep, those deep dark secrets were revealed. That simple touch became a violent embrace, worthy of any bodice-ripper. There were a certain number of gleeful perversions committed on Ivan's battered leather sofa. And at some point in the fantasy, Ivan was a vampire, because I was sort of weird that way. He was a real, Gothic-style, Bram Stoker sort of vampire who bit people as a metaphor for having dubious-consent, alpha-male sex with them, I should point out. None of your modern, sensitive vampires for me. I appreciated the classics.

The snake stuck its tongue out, tasting the air as we inched by, then hissed. Nathaniel nearly tripped over the man seated beside the aisle, trying to dodge the reptile. I ran my fingers over its large, leathery head as I passed—stifling a giggle as my brother’s eyes bulged and he swiped my hand away. “Are you mad?” he whispered harshly. “That beast tried eating me whole, now you’re making a pet of it. Can’t you be normal and like cats?” He shook his head. “If we make it out alive I’ll buy you as many kittens as you’d like. I’ll even purchase a farm in the country where you can house hundreds of them.

I’m in favor of hiding in your chamber for the remainder of the week.” A smile twitched across his lips as I raised a brow. “Drinking, kissing, debauching ourselves until we arrive in New York.” He sighed dreamily. “You must admit, we’d be safe from the murderer. Deliriously happy. And both of those options are much better than standing over cadavers.

Haven’t you got an organ to weigh, people to annoy, or notes to scribble down for Uncle Jonathan? Or perhaps you’ve got another patient to experiment on.” “Dr. Wadsworth was called away on more urgent matters. It’s just the two of us and I’m quite bored of your moping about. We could be taking full advantage of our time together. But no,” he sighed dramatically. “You’re intently reading rubbish.

Dear Lord Wadsworth, esteemed Baron of Somerset, I write to you under great duress. I cannot seem to properly ask to formally court your daughter and ought to be put out of my misery at once. Please send a vicious brood of vampire bats to dispatch me at your earliest convenience. It would clearly be an improvement over this letter… Your daughter’s hopeful yet stupid suitor, Thomas

I want you. I want to give you pleasure, both mentally and physically all day and every night for the rest of our lives. I want to be the reason you smile.” I watched as a slight flush crept up her neck, pleased. She longed for that too, it seemed. “I want to spend hours and years of my life figuring out ways of making you happy. I want you to feel the same way about me. Not because I’ve demanded it of you, but because every piece of you longs for me. I want our passion to ignite the world around us, making even the stars jealous.

You’re the bravest person I know, little Sister.” I couldn’t stop myself from snorting. I was a sniffling, teary mess—hardly the mark of bravery. Thomas had held me the entire carriage ride home just so I wouldn’t break apart. I’d siphoned his strength and missed it terribly now. Nathaniel shook his head, easily reading my thoughts. Well, I hope not the one regarding Thomas with his arms around me.

I cannot promise all will be well, Audrey Rose.” I exhaled loudly. “This is one of those times it’s all right to lie, Thomas. I’m quite aware of how dire things are, but I’d like to pretend otherwise. At least for a few moments.” “Right,” he said, turning his thoughts inward. “What I mean is, I promise to stand by your side through whatever comes our way. You’ll end up being the hero, no doubt, but I’ll look good beside you. And that’s what truly counts.” “Honestly?” He drew back, feigning being affronted. “You can’t possibly have all the glory. Good looking and the hero? This is one of those times it’s all right to lie, Wadsworth.

Aunt Amelia would perish on the spot if she walked in on such… impropriety.” “Hmm. Her untimely end would excuse you from any more embroidery lessons, would it not? Perhaps we should skip the dancing and passionately embrace instead.” “Thomas,” I chided. I told myself the sooner we discovered who the murderer was, the sooner I’d be rid of Thomas Cresswell and his devious ways. We’d be kissing in back alleys before I knew it. Then my reputation would truly be in the gutter.

Have you no—” He brushed his lips against mine and I forgot about my worries, just as he’d intended. The kiss started off tentative and sweet, a distraction and promise itself, but soon turned deeper and more urgent. I wound my arms around his neck, bringing him closer, getting lost in the rhythm of both the sea and our kiss. Even on the coldest night, he could ignite a fire within me. I worried that one day the blaze might consume me entirely. Much too soon, he broke away. In times like this I thought he was right—we ought to announce our intentions and marry immediately. Then I might kiss him whenever I pleased.

Mephistopheles waved her off as she left. “One more woman running off with another man. I’m losing my touch.” “Have you considered you might be a Thorne in their sides?” Thomas asked. “You certainly can be a pric—” “Thomas,” I whispered harshly, pinching the inside of his elbow. “How clever,” Mephistopheles said blandly. “You’ve made my name into a pun. What other comedic brilliance will you think of next? I wish I could say I missed this”—he motioned between himself and Thomas—“but that sort of lying doesn’t pay my bills.” “Nor do the gemstones on your suits,” Thomas muttered. “Are you still jealous about my jackets?” Mephistopheles grinned. “For the love of the queen,” I said, interrupting before they really got into it.

You know? I believe this is the most precious rose I’ve ever received.” He gave me a slow, playful smile. “My magic trick was fairly impressive, too. Do you think Mephistopheles will take me on? I could practice. Actually,” he said, taking my arm in his, adjusting his gait as I moved unsteadily beside him, “we ought to do an act together. What do you think of ‘the Amazing Cressworths’? It’s got a pleasant sound to it.” “Cressworth? Did you honestly combine our names? And why does your name go first?” I stared at him out of the corner of my eye, mouth curved upward despite my best efforts. “I think the most amazing part of our act would be not lulling the audience to sleep with your wit.