“Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.”

“It was Toto that made Dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray as her other surroundings. Toto was not gray; he was a little black dog, with long silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny, wee nose. Toto played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly.”

“He really did not care whether he survived or not, so long as it rendered him unconscious and absolved him of responsibility.”

“He is my dog, Toto," answered Dorothy."Is he made of tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion."Neither. He's a-- a-- a meat dog," said the girl.”

“Randolph," he said, "do you know something? I'm very happy." To which his friend made no reply. The reason for this happiness seemed to be simply that he did not feel unhappy; rather, he knew all through him a kind of balance. There was little for him to cope with.”

“He knew that loneliness was poisoning him, so that he grew viler as well as more unhappy.”