“But I don't ask him anything, because he's driving with that weird fake-happy look on his face, as if he's about to chop me up into little pieces and feed me to a tiger.”

“He's fast asleep, curled up at the other end of my bed, looking peaceful. The expression on his face says he's not really sad, and he's not overcompensating for his sadness by acting all crazy or silly, he's just...content. And that makes me glad, because more than anything else, I want him to be happy.”

“If he goes for my nose again, I fink I'll hang him up by his little balls,' one of the Guard said, getting to his feet. Froi tried to ignore the mockery.'Nothing little about me,' he grunted. 'Don't take my word for it, Hindley. Ask your wife. She seemed happy last night, you know, with the size and all.”

“How can I describe Peter's face, the pieces of him that stick to my heart? Peter sometimes looked aloof and distant; sometimes his face was open and soft as a bruise. Sometimes he looked completely at Tiger Lily, as if she were the point on which all the universe revolved, as if she were the biggest mystery of life, or as if she were a flame and he couldn't not look even though he was scared. And sometimes it would all disappear into carelessness, confidence, amusement, as if he didn't need anyone or anything on this earth to feel happy and alive.”

“I remember once I came into his room alone, when no one was with him. It was a bright evening, the sun was setting and lit up the whole room with its slanting rays. He beckoned when he saw me, I went over to him, he took me by the shoulders with both hands, looked tenderly, lovingly into my face; he did not say anything, he simply looked at me like that for about a minute: "Well," he said, "go now, play, live for me!" I walked out then and went to play.”

“Now that everybody thinks he looks a little Slavic, it annoys me. I don't want that to be the reason I find him charming. I found him charming for no reason, because he is who he is.”