“There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.”

“Oh, Lor!' said the boy, sitting down on the grassy bank at the edge of the shrubbery and very quickly getting up again because the grass was soaking wet. His name was unfortunately Eustace Scrubb but he wasn't a bad sort.”

“They call him Aslan in That Place," said Eustace."What a curious name!""Not half so curious as himself," said Eustace solemnly.”

“The relief was so great that Eustace almost laughed out loud. He began to feel as if he had fought and killed the dragon instead of merely seeing it die.”

“It would be nice and fairly nearly true, to say that 'from that time forth, Eustace was a different boy.' To be strictly accurate, he began to be a different boy. He had relapses. There were still many days when he could be very tiresome. But most of those I shall not notice. The cure had begun.”

“I was wondering — I mean — could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here.You would not have called me unless I had been calling you.”

“You keep a grip of my heels, Pole, and Scrubb would hold on to yours. The we'll all be comfortable.”