“George grinned. 'A pity you're perfectly dreadful at shooting.'Aubrey shrugged. 'I've had all the lessons. I'm adequate.''Adequate? I suppose it depends on what you mean. If you mean that you haven't actually shot yourself by accident, then by all means describe yourself as adequate.'George laced his fingers together and placed them on his chest. ''I'll come, then I might be able to spare you some embarrassment.''I'm honoured.”

“Well, that's certainly... adequate," I told him, burying my face in his chest. I knew immediately I'd picked the wrong word."Adequate?" He took my hand, placed it on the part in question. It immediately began to stir. He moved my hand on it, and I obligingly circled it with my fingers. "This is adequate?""Maybe I should have said it's a gracious plenty?""A gracious plenty. I like that," he said.”

“Fred, you next," the plump woman said. "I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?" "Sorry, George, dear." "Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy and off he went.”

“I suppose this means you can swim after all. Or am I supposed to tow you?""If you really try," said Loaf, grinning, "you might not die.”

“Respect yourself and others will come to respect you. That is true about all of us, but especially true about women. That is the meaning of honour.”

“If you let yourself go I am sure you are sensible. . . . You are inclined to get muddled, if I may judge from last night. Let yourself go. Pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them. By understanding George you may learn to understand yourself.”