“They arrived home again to a most peculiar sight. The small garden at the front of the Banana House had been transformed. A tidal wave of cushions, beanbags, quilts, hearth rugs, and sleeping bags appeared to have swept up the lawn and broken at the wall. From Indigo's window a multicolored rope of knotted bedsheets came snaking out and ended among the cushions. As Micheal and Caddy watched, a mattress emerged and fell to the ground, followed by a rain of pillows."Indigo!" shouted Caddy, jumping out of the car.Indigo's and Rose's heads appeared in the window above."It's all right, Caddy!" Indigo called cheerfully. "We've been doing it all the time you've been gone.""We keep finding more stuff to land on!" added Rose. "Look!”

“They arrived home again to a most peculiar sight. The small garden at the front of the Banana House had been transformed. A tidal wave of cushions, beanbags, quilts, hearth rugs, and sleeping bags appeared to have swept up the lawn and broken at the wall. From Indigo's window a multicolored rope of knotted bedsheets came snaking out and ended among the cushions. As Micheal and Caddy watched, a mattress emerged and fell to the ground, followed by a rain of pillows."Indigo!" shouted Caddy, jumping out of the car.Indigo's and Rose's heads appeared in the window above."It's all right, Caddy!" Indigo called cheerfully. "We've been doing it all the time you've been gone.""We keep finding more stuff to land on!" added Rose. "Look!”

“I always say a little prayer when I put cakes in the oven,” remarked Eve, as she stopped to kiss Rose good-bye.“What do you say?”“I say, ‘Please, God, don’t let me forget I’ve put that cake in the oven.”

“He's an artist in London. We don't see him much."Tom gave him one of his quick, considering glances and asked, "Doesn't he live with you?""No," said Indigo, finally saying out loud what he had known now for a long, long time. "Not really. Not anymore.”

“Rose had the sort of eyes that manage perfectly well with things close by, but entirely blur out things far away. Because of this even the brightest stars had only appeared as silvery smudges in the darkness. In all her life, Rose had never properly seen a star.Tonight there was a sky full.Rose looked up, and it was like walking into a dark room and someone switching on the universe.”

“Saffy could tell by the feel of the darkness that Caddy was awake. She said, "Caddy, how far back can you remember?""Oh," said Caddy, "ages. I can remember when I could only lie flat. On my back. I can remember how pleased I was when I learned to roll over.”

“Oh, Caddy," said Saffron miserably."I know. It's awful. But I'm going. We all should.""It will be so sad.""You have to be sad sometimes," said Caddy. "Whatever Dad says. He may be right. Granddad probably had totally lost his marbles, but I am still sad and I'm still going to the funeral. I shall be as unhappy as I like and I shall where black.”

“Make a wish," said Indigo.Rose made a wish and then asked, "Why?""That's what I always do. Wish on the moving ones.""Does it matter how fast they move?""I don't think so.""Can you wish on airplanes, too?""Oh, yes.”

“For Saffron," it said in shaky old writing on the damaged base, and on the other side, "Saffy's angel."Saffron, picking up the broken fragments one by one, said it didn't matter. She hugged Rose and Indigo and Caddy and Sarah, and said again and again that it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all.”

“She had to go," said Rose."It was because of her angel," said Indigo."And because of Granddad," added Caddy."And because of her nose stud.""And because her name isn't on the color chart.""She's lonely," said Rose. "That's why.”

“He had a charm about him sometimes, a warmth that was irresistible, like sunshine. He planted Saffy triumphantly on the pavement, opened the taxi door, slung in his bag, gave a huge film-star wave, called, "All right, Peter? Good weekend?" to the taxi driver, who knew him well and considered him a lovely man, and was free."Back to the hard life," he said to Peter, and stretched out his legs.Back to the real life, he meant. The real world where there were no children lurking under tables, no wives wiping their noses on the ironing, no guinea pigs on the lawn, nor hamsters in the bedrooms, and no paper bags full of leaking tomato sandwiches.”

“Very helpful, I must say. Look at them in the eye and shout, and they understand every word..." (Mr. Warbeck in Sienna, talking about local Italians.)”