“I didn't know that you could love and hate your parents totally separately and equally. But you can. And I do.”

“Accounts are not quite settled between us," said she, with a passion that equaled my own. "I can love, and I can hate. You had your choice. You chose to spurn the first; now you must test the other.”

“I didn't know," he whispered. "I didn't know I could love you so much.”

“I do not know what happened with your parents or why they did what they did. But in all the world, I could have wished for no daughter but you.”

“Tell me, enigmatical man, whom do you love best, your father,Your mother, your sister, or your brother?I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.Your friends?Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known.Your country?I do not know in what latitude it lies.Beauty?I could indeed love her, Goddess and Immortal.Gold?I hate it as you hate God.Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger?I love the clouds the clouds that pass up thereUp there the wonderful clouds!”

“You know, Lockie,’ she said aloud.‘What?’‘The thing about parents is . . . the thing about good parents — and I think your parents are pretty good . . .’‘Yeah, Mum makes cakes, amazing cakes, and Dad takes me fishing even when there’s work to do. They’re good parents, my mum and dad. But . . . but they didn’t find me.’‘I know, Lockie, but I promise they were looking. When we get you home they’ll tell you. I promise they were looking.’‘I should have stayed by the stroller. Maybe they’re mad and that’s why they didn’t look. Maybe they know I’m a bad boy.’ ‘You are not bad, Lockie,’ said Tina. She said the words slowly, patiently. ‘You are not bad and your parents sound like they’re pretty good parents. And you know . . . well, the thing about good parents is that they kind of love you no matter what.’‘No matter what?’‘Yeah, whatever happens, whatever you do, they still love you. Sometimes they shout when you do stuff they don’t like but they always love you.’‘What if the stuff you do is really bad?’‘They’ll still love you. That’s their job.’‘No, I mean what if the stuff you did is really, really bad?’‘It doesn’t matter, Lockie. You’re just a kid. Nothing you could do could be that bad.’‘You don’t know what bad is,’ said Lockie, and then he repeated the words to himself. ‘You don’t know what bad is.”