“‎And I have come so far; and the sights and thoughts of my youth pursue me; and I see like a vision the youth of my father, and of his father, and the whole stream of lives flowing down there, far in the north, with the sound of laughter and tears, to cast me out in the end, as by a sudden freshet, on those ultimate islands. And I admire and bow my head before the romance of destiny.”

“Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17—, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof. I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow—a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking round the cover and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards:”

“God's Teeth,' he says. 'I was only trying to wake you. You were crying out in your sleep.''I was not,' I say, then look from his neck to my knife.'When I tried to wake you, you stabbed me.' He sounds sore put out. and I cannot blame him.”

“If I thought I was head over heels for him before, this time I was so far gone, it’s like I fell into my own grave. Head over heels and down a whole. Bury me with dirt, stick a stake into my heart, and call it a day.”

“David held the knife up with a shaky hand. ““Get that damn thing out of my face, boy.David shook his head. “No, you’re going to hit me!”“Of course I am and you’re only pissing me off more with that damn knife!”

“To the Hesitating Purchaser:"If sailor tales to sailor tunes, Storm and adventure, heat and cold,If schooners, islands, and maroons And Buccaneers and buried GoldAnd all the old romance, retold, Exactly in the ancient way,Can please, as me they pleased of old, The wiser youngsters of to-day:-So be it, and fall on! If not, If studious youth no longer crave,His ancient appetites forgot, Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave,Or Cooper of the wood and wave: So be it, also! And may IAnd all my pirates share the grave, Where these and their creations lie!”

“Now this was one of the things I had been brought up to eschew like disgrace; it being held by my father neither the part of a Christian nor yet of a gentleman to set his own livelihood and fish for that of others, on the cast of painted pasteboard.”