Grandpa Portman was one of the most mysterious people I've ever met.
He grew up in an orphanage, fought in wars, sailed the oceans on steamships, and rode horses across the desert.
He was active in the circus, knew everything about guns, self-defense, and outdoor survival, and spoke three languages ​​in addition to English.
To a little boy who had never left Florida, the stories his grandfather told were so fascinating and mysterious.
---p.11

The more interesting part was the story about the time when I lived in a children's home in Wales.
It was a wonderful daycare center built to protect children from monsters, and it was located on a sunny island where no one got sick or died, and everyone lived together in a large house guarded by a wise, old bird.
But as I grew up, I began to doubt my grandfather's stories.
---p.13

“Why did the monsters try to harm Grandpa?” I asked.

“Because we were different from other people.
We were a little weird.
"
“Strange? How so?”
“Each one was strange in its own way.
“There was a girl who could fly, a boy who had bees living inside him, and a brother and sister who could lift rocks.” ---p.15

“There’s no time,” my grandfather whispered in my ear, barely able to lift his head from the ground and trembling with exhaustion.
“Find that bird.
Inside the loop.
Across from the old man's grave.
“September 3, 1940.” I nodded, but my grandfather knew that I didn’t understand at all.
Grandfather gathered his last bit of strength and added one more word.
“Emerson... that letter.
“Tell them the news, Jacob.” ---p.43
There was no moon, and there was no sign of anyone else in the forest, but I instinctively knew where to point my flashlight.
And in the thin beam of the flashlight I saw its face, which seemed to have come straight out of a nightmare from my childhood.
It saw me too.
Eyes swimming in dark liquid, dark, wrinkled, saggy skin on a crooked skeleton, snake-like tongues writhing out of strangely gaping mouths.
---p.44

After two consultations, he almost convinced me that the monster I had seen was a product of my overactive imagination.
The shock of my grandfather's death made me believe I saw things that didn't exist.
Dr. Golan explained that it was my grandfather who first planted the image of that monster in my mind.
---p.52

Some of what my grandfather said sounded quite plausible.
For example, it was the same when they told me to go to the island.
My grandfather was worried that a monster would come after me and believed that the island was the only place I could escape to.
Just like my grandfather did when he was young.
“You should have told me sooner,” he said, but he didn’t have time to explain what he should have said, so he seemed to have chosen the lesser of two evils, leaving me with crumbs to tell someone who could.
So, he must have said strange things like "Loopney," "Island," and "Letter."
---p.55

A box was visible from under the bed covers in a rectangle created by the faint sunlight.
It was an old cigarette box covered in dust.
It was as if it was waiting for me to find it.
I knew the pictures in it all too well.
An invisible boy, a levitating girl, a boy holding a rock, and a man with a face drawn on the back of his head.
The photos were tattered and the edges were worn.
It was smaller than I thought.
---p.59

Among those photos were five more that Grandpa Portman had never shown me.
Why would that be?
It was only after looking at the photos one by one that I could understand why.
The three photos were so blatantly fake that even a child could tell they were fake.
One was a double exposure of a girl trapped in a glass bottle, and the other was a photo of a baby floating in mid-air, apparently hanging from a device hidden somewhere in a dark door behind.
Another picture was of a boy's face roughly pasted onto a dog's body.
To make matters worse, the last two photos looked like they could have appeared in a David Lynch film.
It was a picture of a creepy-looking girl acrobat bending backwards in a strange way, and a picture of strange twins wearing the most bizarre outfits I've ever seen.
Even my grandfather, who filled my head with tongue-lashing monster stories, must have worried that these pictures would give me nightmares.
---p.60

Nine months ago, my grandfather told me to find a bird.
Nine years ago, my grandfather told me that the daycare center on the island where you lived was guarded by a pipe-smoking bird.
When I was seven, I took my grandfather's words at face value, but the pipe-smoking director in the photo, 'Peregrine' (the falcon), also had a bird's name.
---p.75

Grandpa talked about that house a hundred times.
In the story, the house was always a bright and happy place.
Although it was very large and messy, it was a place full of sunshine and laughter.
But the house that appeared before my eyes was not a hideout for monsters, but rather the monsters themselves.
A monster sitting on a pole staring at me with hunger.
---p.
101

The girl who had spoken to me stood up to get a closer look at me.
A light leaked out from his hand, but the source of the light was neither a flashlight nor a candle.
A red flame was burning in the palm of his hand.
I saw that girl in a photo five minutes ago, and the girl in the photo looked exactly like the girl standing before me now.
Even the sight of strange lights emanating from both hands.
I'm Jacob, I've been looking for you.
That's what I wanted to say.
But his mouth wouldn't open and he just stared blankly at the children.
---p.149

“Of course, you can go out of the island and get older.
Like ordinary people.
But for what? To be caught up in war? To meet people who fear and don't understand those children? There are other dangers lurking, too.
“It’s best for the kids to be here.”
“Another danger?”
Her face darkened.
As if bringing it up was wrong.
“It’s none of your business.
At least for now.”

---p.257