“He looked in disgust at the piles of sandbags surrounding peter the great's statue. He wanted to tear them off and let the "bronze horseman" ride again, to have him point the way and lead his countrymen out of the hopelessness and siege they found themselves in. They needed peter's will of iron more than anything.”

“You invaded Narnia. You have no more right leading than Miraz does. Peter Pevensie: You, him, your father! Narnia's better off without the lot of you!”

“In his sermon on the baptism of the Spirit, Chamberlain points out Peter's focus in Acts 2. The amazing work of enabling the apostles to speak languages in which they had not been trained drew the attention of the crowd so Peter could address them. No doubt, they wanted an in-depth explanation. But Peter uses this incident to point to Christ and uses the attention he has to fully explain the Gospel – NOT to sensationalize a gift of the Spirit.”

“Don't drop him," said Peter's mother to his father. "Don't you dare drop him." She was laughing."I will not," said his father. "I could not." For he is Peter Augustus Duchene, and he will always return to me.Again and again, Peter's father threw him up in the air. Again and again, Peter felt himself suspended in nothingness for a moment, just a moment, and then he was pulled back, returned to the sweetness of the earth and the warmth of his father's waiting arms."See?" said his father to his mother. "Do you see how he always comes back to me?”

“Where's your dog?" Peter's voice came from within the gushing stream of water. Justin thought he must have misheard."Pardon?""Your dog.""Yes?""Isn't he with you today?" Justin looked at Peter."Ha bloody ha." Peter stuck his head out of the stream of water, features dripping. He smiled shyly. "I love greyhounds." Justin stared."My dog is imaginary.""Oh." Peter looked interested. "That's unusual." Justin put his head under the water. When he emerged, Peter was still looking at him."Less work," Peter offered, cheerily. "If the dog's imaginary, I mean. Not so much grooming, feeding, et cetera.”

“How can I describe Peter's face, the pieces of him that stick to my heart? Peter sometimes looked aloof and distant; sometimes his face was open and soft as a bruise. Sometimes he looked completely at Tiger Lily, as if she were the point on which all the universe revolved, as if she were the biggest mystery of life, or as if she were a flame and he couldn't not look even though he was scared. And sometimes it would all disappear into carelessness, confidence, amusement, as if he didn't need anyone or anything on this earth to feel happy and alive.”