I'm as sorry as can be for the poor lad, but he turns me queer, though I feel ashamed of it.

I like things _sound_.

Your mother's different; she likes 'em better for being sick and sorry, and I suppose Jack takes after her." My father was wrong about me.

Pity for Charlie was not half of the tie between us.

When he was talking, or listening to the penny numbers, I never thought about his legs or his back, and I don't now understand how anybody could.
He read and remembered far more than I did, and he was even wilder about strange countries.