“Bought marmalade? Oh dear, I call that very feeble.”

“I think you are a very bad man," said Dorothy."Oh, no, my dear; I'm really a very good man, but I'm a very bad Wizard, I must admit.”

“Oh, by the way, the plot: it almost slipped my mind. Charlie French bought my mother’s pictures cheap and sold them dear to Binkie Behrens, then bought them cheap from Binkie and sold them on to Max Molyneaux. Something like that. Does it matter? Dark deeds, dark deeds. Enough.”

“Oh dear,' said Eddie. 'We'd better hurry. Tinto, call me a cab.'All right,' said Tinto. 'You're a cab.”

“. . . I do not tell you often enough, dear Mother, how very grateful I am that I am yours. It is a rare parent who would offer a child such latitude and understanding. It is an even rarer one who calls a daughter friend. I do love you, dear Mama.”

“What did it mean to her, this thing she called life? Oh, it was very queer.”