“The robin flew from his swinging spray of ivy on to the top of the wall and he opened his beak and sang a loud, lovely trill, merely to show off. Nothing in the world is quite as adorably lovely as a robin when he shows off - and they are nearly always doing it.”

“Nothing in the world is quite as adorably lovely as a robin when he shows off and they are nearly always doing it.”

“There goes the dismantled—Love has fallen off her wall. A religious woman,” he thought to himself, “without the joy and safety of the Catholic faith, which at a pinch covers up the spots on the wall when the family portraits take a slide; take that safety from a woman,” he said to himself, quickening his step to follow her, “and love gets loose and into the rafters. She sees her everywhere,” he added, glancing at Nora as she passed into the dark. “Out looking for what she’s afraid to find—Robin. There goes mother of mischief, running about, trying to get the world home.”

“So I guess this makes me your sidekick, right?” he asked. “Like I could be…” “Robin?” He scowled. “I ain’t no Robin.” “What’s wrong with Robin?” “What’s wrong?” Ray rolled his eyes. “Two words: green Speedo. And he was lame. Batman was always having to save his ass.” I didn’t say anything.”

“I loved his enormous aptitude for compassion, adoration and respect. That was his way of showing love. He lacked the capacity for wickedness, and that caressed my belief that he might just be an angel. My angel.”

“A man shows his character just in the way in which he deals with trifles---for then he is off his guard.”