He's almost a man; and men seem to me to grow harsh and unloving as they grow older.

I try, now and then, to shut my eyes and see him as he once was; but all the time I know that the little boy who used to be Peter has gone away for ever and ever and ever.

If he had died when he was little he would always have been my little boy, wouldn't he?
But, thank God, he didn't die.

He's going to be a great strong man, and a brave soldier, and--and all I've ever wanted him to be--when he's got over these wilful days of boyhood.

But he mustn't go without his father's blessing and his mother's kiss." "He has chosen to do so, Mary," said Sir Timothy, coldly.
She clung to him caressingly.