“He had a charm about him sometimes, a warmth that was irresistible, like sunshine. He planted Saffy triumphantly on the pavement, opened the taxi door, slung in his bag, gave a huge film-star wave, called, "All right, Peter? Good weekend?" to the taxi driver, who knew him well and considered him a lovely man, and was free."Back to the hard life," he said to Peter, and stretched out his legs.Back to the real life, he meant. The real world where there were no children lurking under tables, no wives wiping their noses on the ironing, no guinea pigs on the lawn, nor hamsters in the bedrooms, and no paper bags full of leaking tomato sandwiches.”

“He's an artist in London. We don't see him much."Tom gave him one of his quick, considering glances and asked, "Doesn't he live with you?""No," said Indigo, finally saying out loud what he had known now for a long, long time. "Not really. Not anymore.”

“Caddy came home on Friday evening. Perfectly Harmless Patrick brought her in his battered old car..."Crikey, Caddy!" said Indigo, and he disappeared upstairs to tell Rose.Eve murmured, "Sweet," rather doubtfully.Sarah said, not doubtfully at all, "Horrendous! The worst yet. Rock bottom.""He had a very difficult childhood," said Caddy...."Who didn't?" asked Saffron unsympathetically. "Gosh, he's ancient, Caddy! Look, he's going bald! All that long trailing stuff is just a disguise!""If I was going bald," said Sarah, "I would face the fact and have it all shaved off.""Well, I thought Mummy would like him," said Caddy defensively. "...Anyway, I can always take him back.""I think you're going to have to, Caddy darling," said Eve... "Hello, Rose darling! Come in and see what Caddy has brought home to show us!"She escaped, and Rose, who had already heard the news from Indigo, glanced at Patrick and began laughing."See?" said Sarah. "Rose knows! Absolutely rock bottom! You cannot be serious, Caddy!""Oh, stop looking at him!" said Caddy, uncomfortably. "I'll find something to cover him up with in a minute!""How long are you leaving him there for?" asked Rose."Just until Sunday," said Caddy, trying to sound casual."Till Sunday!" repeated Saffron. "So is Micheal dumped?""Of course he isn't!" said Caddy indignantly. "I've never dumped anyone!""Start!" said Saffron. "Otherwise they just pile up, taking up the sofas...”

“He will grow up into one of those people who lean back to smile and jump so easily it looks like slow motion and steer cars with their knees and snitch roses from gardens to give to girls and write with their left hand and own two pairs of jeans and one jacket and fall in love from such a height and so hard and so completely that they never quite recover from the drop.But at least he will have me to look out for him.”

“Oh, Caddy," said Saffron miserably."I know. It's awful. But I'm going. We all should.""It will be so sad.""You have to be sad sometimes," said Caddy. "Whatever Dad says. He may be right. Granddad probably had totally lost his marbles, but I am still sad and I'm still going to the funeral. I shall be as unhappy as I like and I shall where black.”

“I love people who play guitars on roofs!" said Rose, hopping along the pavement in one of her sudden happy moods. "Don't you?""Never knew anyone else who did it!""Don't you like Tom?""Of course I do. But I don't know about all the other guitar-on-roof players! They might be really awful people, with just that one good thing about them. Playing guitars on roofs... or bagpipes... Or drums... Sarah would like that, and Saffy could have the bagpipes! Caddy could have a harp.... What about Mum?""One of those gourds filled with beans!" said Rose at once. "And Daddy could have a grand piano. On a flat roof. With a balcony and pink flowers in pots around the edge! And I'll have a very loud trumpet! What about you?""I'll just listen," said Indigo.”

“Kiran says (the shelf) is full of stories. If it is, then I like fairy stories. Fairy stories are fair. In them wishes are granted, words are enchanted, the honest and brave make it safely through to the last page and the baddies either have to give up their wickedness for ever and ever, no going back, or get ruthlessly written out of the story, which they hardly ever survive. Also in fairy stories there are hardly any of those half-good half-bad people that crop up so constantly in real life and are so difficult to believe in...”