“He glanced about him to make sure we weren't overheard, leaned forward, and whispered, 'He collects stamps.'The family looked bewildered.'You mean he's a philatelist?' said Larry at length.'No, no, Master Larrys,' said Spiro. 'He's not one of them. He's a married man and he's gots two childrens.”

“We stared at the odd garment and wondered what it was for. 'What is it?' asked Larry at length. 'It's a bathing costume, of course,' said Mother. 'What on earth did you think it was?' 'It looks like a badly skinned whale,' said Larry, peering at it closely.”

“At length the Turk turned to Larry:'You write, I believe?' he said with complete lack of interest.Larry's eyes glittered. Mother, seeing the danger signs, rushed in quickly before he could reply.'Yes, yes' she smiled, 'he writes away, day after day. Always tapping at the typewriter''I always feel that I could write superbly if I tried' remarked the Turk.'Really?' said Mother. 'Yes, well, it's a gift I suppose, like so many things.''He swims well' remarked Margo, 'and he goes out terribly far''I have no fear' said the Turk modestly. 'I am a superb swimmer, so I have no fear. When I ride the horse, I have no fear, for I ride superbly. I can sail the boat magnificently in the typhoon without fear'He sipped his tea delicately, regarding our awestruck faces with approval.'You see' he went on, in case we had missed the point, 'you see, I am not a fearful man.”

“Les, muttering wrathfully, hauled the bedclothes off the recumbent Larry and used them to smother the flames. Larry sat up indignantly.'What the the hell is going on?' he demanded.'The room is on fire, dear.''Well, I don't see why I should freeze to death... why tear all the bedclothes off? Really, the fuss you all make. It's quite simple to put out a fire.''Oh, shut up!' snapped Leslie, jumping up and down on the bedclothes.”

“Why keep in touch with them? That's what I want to know,' asked Larry despairingly. 'What satisfaction does it give you? They're all either fossilized or mental.' 'Indeed, they're not mental,' said Mother indignantly.'Nonsense, Mother... Look at Aunt Bertha, keeping flocks of imaginary cats... and there's Great-Uncle Patrick, who wanders about nude and tells complete strangers how he killed whales with a penknife...They're all bats.”

“I have attempted to draw an accurate and unexaggerated picture of my family in the following pages; they appear as I saw them. To explain some of their more curious ways, however, I feel that I should state that at the time we were in Corfu the family were all quite young: Larry, the eldest, was 23; Leslie was 19; Margo was 18; while I was the youngest, being of the tender and impressionble age of 10. We had never been certain of my mother's age for the simple reason she could never remember her date of birth; all I can say is she was old enough to have four children. My mother also insists that I explain that she is a widow for, as she so penetratingly observed, you never know what people might think.”

“There's one thing you need to understand," Larry said. "We love because God first loved us, even in the face of all our unloveliness." He paused. He seemed to want to give John time to think about that. Then he said, "Go home and love your wife John."I'm afraid I can't find the strength in myself to do that, Larry."Pastor Larry leaned forward, smiling tenderly. "That's good, my friend," he said. "Now we're getting somewhere.”