Sally And Jack Quotes

“He kisses me again, folding me in his arms--the place I want to stay for a thousand years. When I first discovered Dream Town, I wasn't sure where I belonged, where my true home was. But now I know. Sometimes home is a town, a house with four walls. Other times, it's two hollow eyes in a skull, a skeleton without a heartbeat. It's here---not in Dream Town or Halloween Town---but in Jack's arms.
Folded against this hollow, skeleton chest is where I belong.
I let the tears stream down my face, I let them bind us together, salt and water and fabric and bone. Woven parts of ourselves that become one.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“I wonder if someday Jack and I will have our own pram filled with tiny skeletons and rag dolls. The scuttle of little feet through the house. Skeleton boys tumbling down the spiral stairs; little rag doll girls with their threads coming loose, always needing their fingers and toes stitched back together. A perfectly grim little family.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“Jack pulls me back into his arms, as if he could absorb the pain and take it from me. And I know, I would do it all over again: I would leave Dream Town and never return a thousand times just to be here with Jack, to touch his face, to feel his ice-cold lips on mine, to have a life with him in this town. To stand beside him as Pumpkin Queen.
This is the life I want. The one I'm willing to sacrifice everything for.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“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: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“He wipes away the tear streaming down my cotton cheekbone to my chin and looks at me like his own chest is about to fracture. And for a moment, I'm certain they should just bury us both here, at the center of the graveyard. Married and died on the same day. Unable to contain the unspeakable, awful, wondrous emotion breaking against our eyelids.
The dreadful residents of Halloween Town applaud, tossing tiny dwarf spiders at our feet as we leave the cemetery, and the warmth in my chest feels like bats clamoring for a way out of my rib cage. Trying to break me apart.
I am now Sally Skellington.
The Pumpkin Queen.
And I'm certain I will never again be as happy as I am right now.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“In St. Patrick Town, we find the stubborn, sprightly residents all awake--the leprechaun I spoke to days before still in search of his lost pot of gold in the glen, rain clouds heavy in the distance, and rainbows gleaming above the treetops.
In Valentine's Town, Queen Ruby is bustling through the streets, making sure the chocolatiers are busy crafting their confections of black velvet truffles and cherry macaroons, trying to make up for lost time, while her cupids still flock through town, wild and restless.
The rabbits have resumed painting their pastel eggs in Easter Town. The townsfolk in Fourth of July Town are testing new rainbow sparklers and fireworks that explode in the formation of a queen's crown, in honor of the Pumpkin Queen who saved them all from a life of dreamless sleep. In Thanksgiving Town, everyone is preparing for the feast in the coming season, and the elves in Christmas Town have resumed assembling presents and baking powdered-sugar gingerbread cookies.
And in Halloween Town, we have just enough time to finish preparations for the holiday: cobwebs woven together, pumpkins carved, and black tar-wax candles lit.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“There is an entire orchard. Hidden, tucked away. Rows and rows of magical, uncharted trees. Doorways into old, long forgotten towns.
Father Time.
Old Man Winter.
The Tooth Fairy.
Multitudes of worlds, places we never knew existed.
I smile, and Jack pulls me to him. A queen, and her king.
And I know, with a certainty that is knitted in my linen bones, we will spend a lifetime---Jack and I, side by side---slipping through doorways that lead to other doorways, carved into ancient, gnarled trees.
Lands to explore, adventures to be had.
But always together.
Because there is nothing quite so wasted as a life unlived. And I intend to live mine. Fully. Unbound by the rules of others. Queen or not, we all deserve these things. Freedom. Hope. A chance to find out who we really are.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“A graveyard.
It's the largest cemetery I've ever seen--a place Jack would surely love.
A long rectangle of green lawn lined with rows and rows of old, moss-coated and weather-worn gravestones. Rain pounds the earth, and the cold tickle of air against my neck reminds me of the cemetery in Halloween Town. A feeling that exists in every cemetery, it seems. That hint of death. Of sorrow. Of lives brought to an end. But I don't have to go far before I find a small stone structure, an ornate mausoleum with spires along the roofline and a copper door, tarnished green from the rain. A tomb where the dead are placed to rest.
I glance up the path, the cemetery glistening in the wet air. I have passed through many realms, all the way into the human world to a city made strangely silent, and now this mausoleum is my way home.
My way back to Jack.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“Because right now I am simply a rag doll in a boat with a skeleton whom I love. Madly, Feverishly. Floating through a town where my title doesn't matter. Queen, queen, queen. Where no one knows who I am.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“Jack weaves his fingers through mine, grinning curiously, like he's just sprung from a shadow and frightened a ghost back into the dark---one of his favorite pastimes---and we follow the winding path out of the forest, away from the grove of seven trees. I run my fingertips along the dusty pink poppies and vibrant bloodred roses that line the path, and when we finally step free of the dense forest, I peer up at a cloudless sky, shimmering a soft airy pink.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

“Oh, Jack," she whispered, leaning longingly against the gravestone. "I know how you feel."
Suddenly there was a shift beneath her--- the gravestone crumbling under her added weight. She cried out in surprise, trying to move, but only managed to lose her balance in the process. She was flung from her hiding spot, tumbling forward into a wide-open space.
And when she managed to look up again?
She found herself staring straight into the eyes of Jack Skellington.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“Think about what pleases you, not just them." She paused, then added softly. "Even the Pumpkin King has a right to be happy."
Jack nodded slowly, for a moment seeming lost in thought. Then he gave her a shy smile. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "We should talk more often, you and I."
Sally's breath caught in her throat as Jack met her eyes with his own. She'd never seen them so close up, she realized wildly. Or noticed how dark and deep they were. She felt a shiver down her back, not entirely unpleasant.
"I'd like that," she replied, her voice barely over a whisper. "I'd like that a lot."
They fell into silence. Not an awkward silence, like the kind that came when she was having dinner with Dr. Finkelstein and ran out of polite things to say, but rather something almost comforting. As if they were somehow sharing a precious moment beyond words, side by side, under the bright orange Halloween moon.
It was funny, Sally thought. If someone had told her yesterday she'd be out here on Halloween night, staring into the eyes of the Pumpkin King, she'd never have believed it. Up until now, they'd seemed worlds apart.
But she'd seen another side of Jack tonight. And for two people who were so very different, they were more alike than she could have ever imagined.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“She settled down on the coffin-shaped couch against the wall, folding her hands in her lap. Jack held up a bony finger and retreated into an adjoining--- the kitchen, she realized as she took a peek--- then returned a moment later with a steaming cup of what turned out to be rotten mushroom tea. She took it from him gratefully, breathing in the salty scent before taking a long, deep swig.
"So good," she murmured after she'd swallowed, then took a second sip. She hadn't realized how hungry and thirsty she'd been. The sugary snacks she'd eaten earlier hadn't filled her up. But this was the kind of cauldron concoction that stuck to your bones (if you had any, that was).”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“So you really think these all represent different holiday lands?" he asked, pulling open the door with the large bird on it. "What do you think this one could be?"
"A holiday to honor turkeys?" Sally guessed. Though somehow that didn't sound quite right.
"Maybe," Jack mused. "But why would anyone want to honor a turkey? They're such dumb birds. Really, the only good thing to do is eat them." He closed the door, then headed over to the tree with the heart on it. "This one's probably Dissection Town," he decided. "They spend all year long harvesting organs, and one day a year they gather together to eat them."
Sally made a face. "Or maybe it's Love Town?" she suggested. "And their holiday is filled with lots of romantic proclamations?"
Jack looked disappointed by this idea. He moved on to the tree with the four-leafed plant. "Garden Town," he pronounced. "They're completely vegetarian. And they hate turkeys with a passion.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“She brought the hot chocolate slowly to her lips, breathing on it to cool it down before taking a sip. She sighed dreamily as the thick chocolate slid down her throat, sweet and delicious.
"Yum," she said. "Try it again, Jack. You're going to like it."
Jack did as he was told, this time taking a much smaller sip. His mouth curled to a grin as he set the cup back down. "Well, that's pretty good," he admitted. "It's like someone took a pile of Halloween candy and melted it down, then added milk." He sniffed the cup. "Thought it'd be better if they used the expired kind. Then we might get some actual curdles." He took another sip, managing to get a blob of whipped cream stuck in his fake beard. Sally giggled, then grabbed the rag to blot his face.
"You're a mess," she teased. And he smiled back at her.
"I know," he said. "But you love me anyway, right?"
Sally felt her cheeks go red and she quickly grabbed her mug again, bringing it to her face to hide it. She knew Jack was just being silly. But the way he was smiling at her--- as if, in that very moment, she was the only other person in the world--- well, it felt far too lovely.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“This is why I needed you to come with me. Imagine if I had discovered this place all by myself. Who knows how much damage I'd have managed to do?"
"I can't even imagine," Sally said. "Good thing you have me to keep you in line."
"Good thing indeed," Jack said, reaching across the table and placing his hand over hers. His expression turned serious and when he met her eyes with his own, Sally's breath hitched.
"Thank you for bringing me here," he said softly. "This was exactly what I needed."
Sally nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She couldn't believe she'd almost chickened out and stayed behind. Missed out on this special day with Jack. Seeing the light in his eyes. Hearing the joy in his voice. Just the two of them together.
No one knew where they were. No one knew what they were doing. And the only thing that mattered was that they were doing it together.
Maybe she needed to face her fears more often...”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“After all, I'm Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King. And you're Scary Sally, the doll who can single-handedly frighten away an entire town just by using her head." He bared his teeth menacingly. "They have no idea who they're dealing with."
A chill spun down Sally's back as she caught the fierce look on Jack's face. It was the kind of swagger he usually reserved for Halloween night, and she had always been enthralled by it. That confidence! That conviction! That look that told her he seriously believed he could achieve anything--- if he just put his mind to it.
And maybe Sally could, too.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“But first I have to sew my leg back on. Properly this time, so it doesn't come apart again." She reached for her leg, her hands still shaking from residual adrenaline after their near escape. She hoped she'd be able to thread her needle.
Jack placed a hand over her arm. "Allow me," he said, and Sally's eyes widened as he carefully aligned her lower leg with the stub of her knee.
"I can do that---" she started. But Jack put a finger to her lips.
"I know you can," he said, meeting her eyes with his own. "But right now your hands are still trembling from trying to help me up and I don't want you to hurt yourself. So why don't you just rest for a second? Allow me to make myself useful for once." He wagged a playful finger at her. "You don't get to save the day every time, you know."
Sally tried to laugh, but it came out more like a choke as grateful tears began to well in her eyes. A part of her still wanted to argue, to insist she could do it herself. But then, Jack already knew that, didn't he? Even in the darkness she could see his confidence in her, reflected in his dark eyes.
Sally had always hated when Dr. Finkelstein had sewed her back together. It made her feel weak. Helpless. Yet another thing he didn't trust her to do on her own. Another way to retain control.
But Jack wasn't trying to control her, she realized. He was trying to help her. And wasn't it nice, sometimes, to lean on another? To trust that someone cared enough to do the job right?”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly.
She shook her head wordlessly. It did hurt a little, of course--- it always did. But so much less than when Dr. Finkelstein would carelessly jab his needle into her cloth, without caring how she was feeling or even if his stitches would hold for the long haul.
But Jack was different. Meticulous. Gentle. And instead of feeling uncomfortable, she felt a strange warmth settle in her stomach.Soon Jack finished, giving her a shy smile as he tied off the last stitch. And from the look on his face, she realized he'd felt something, too. Maybe it wasn't exactly the same. Maybe not as strong. But something.
Which made her feel even warmer.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“She knew it too well, that terrible empty feeling that stemmed from loneliness. That desperate desire to be close to something--- someone. Someone who understood you. Someone who allowed you to be yourself without any strings attached.
Perhaps, all along, it hadn't been freedom or adventure they'd truly craved that night in the graveyard, she thought suddenly. Perhaps it had been connection.
She looked up, realizing Jack's face was near hers. He gave her a timid smile, reaching out to brush a lock of yarn from her eyes. Sally felt her leaves swirl, and her first instinct was to jerk away, laugh, break from the moment and make it all a joke.
But no. That was the coward's way out. She needed to face her fears. To be the Sally she so desperately wanted to be. The Sally she saw reflected in Jack's dark eyes.
"Jack..." she whispered. His name felt like a prayer on her lips. "Oh, Jack."
"Sally..."
Jack closed his eyes. Tilted his head. Began to lean closer.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“All those times she'd watched him waltz into town on Halloween night in all his pumpkin glory--- she'd always been so impressed. He'd been like a rock star to her, larger than life.
But he was also just a simple guy, it turned out. With hopes and dreams and desires, just like everyone else.
And she liked that Jack. Maybe even more than the illustrious Pumpkin King.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament

“A simple kiss between a rag doll and a Pumpkin King. And perhaps the beginning of their most amazing adventure yet. Not in another world far away this time, but right here, right now, just the two of them, silhouetted in the moonlight on top of Spiral Hill.
As if it was simply meant to be.”
― Mari Mancusi, Sally's Lament