“He looks sad. Or maybe that's just how he looks when he isn't doing something else with his face.”

“Oh man, Alex. That's sad. Seriously, mate, go get yourself laid.""What?" He gave Baldrick a quick kiss on his little head--he didn't care how stupid he looked, he loved his ugly cat--and put him down on his kitty bed in the corner."Isn't that what single sad people do--get cats when they've given up on human companionship?”

“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.”

“He didn't move, just stood with a pleasant smile. But I wouldn't be fooled. How many times had I faces just like his on the news? Well, maybe not just like his. He was better looking than the average psychos.”

“Claire found herself staring at his feet, which were in bunny slippers. Myrnin looked down. "What?" he asked. "They're quite comfortable." He lifted on to look at it, and the ears wobbled in the air. "Of course they are," she said. Just when she thought Myrnin was getting his mental act together, he'd do something like that. Or maybe he was just messing with her. He liked to do that, and his dark eyes were fixed on her now, assessing just how weirded-out she was. Which, on the grade scale of zero to Myrnin, wasn't much.”

“A clown needn't be the same out of the ring as he has to be when he's in it. If you look at photographs of clowns when they're just being ordinary men, they've got quite sad faces.”