“And because he felt like he might burst open and because he lacked the dexterity in English to say all that he was thinking--how in his estimation, the more you lived the more regret and longing you suffered, that life was a glorious catastrophe--Pasquale Tursi said, only, "Yes.”

“Is it like a Harry Potter thing?" He turned his head then. "A what?""A Harry Potter thing," she said again. "You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention?"He considered it. "You mean the children's book.""I have got to get you to watch more movies," she said. "You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the children's book.”

“Not at all," said Dorothea, with the most open kindness. "I like you very much."Will was not quite contented, thinking that he would apparently have been of more importance if he had been disliked. He said nothing, but looked dull, not to say sulky.”

“You are softening toward the young rascal because he is ill, and because he says he likes cats.""It is an engaging quality, Emerson.""That depends," said Emerson darkly, "on how he likes them.”

“He thinks great folly, child,' said Aslan. "This world is bursting with life for these few days because the song with which I called it into life still hangs in the air and rumbles in the ground. It will not be so for long. But I cannot tell that to this old sinner, and I cannot comfort him either; he has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would hear only growlings and roarings. Oh, Adam's son, how cleverly you defend yourself against all that might do you good!”

“He doesn’t know to want for more because nothing in his life has been as much as this...on that night he thinks that no one has ever had so much and only later will he know he should have asked for more.”