" ... Look you: do thy sisters forbid their servants to smile, lest the sin destroy their souls?"

"They? Oh, dost think, sir, that THEY have servants?"

The little prince contemplated the little pauper gravely a moment, then said--
"And prithee, why not? Who helpeth them undress at night? Who attireth them when they rise?"

"None, sir. Would'st have them take off their garment, and sleep without--like the beasts?"

"Their garment! Have they but one?"

"Ah, good your worship, what would they do with more? Truly they have not two bodies each."

(Chapter III)

When I came to build my chimney I studied masonry. My bricks, being second-hand ones, required to be cleaned with a trowel, so that I learned more than usual of the qualities of bricks and trowels. The mortar on them was fifty years old, and was said to be still growing harder; but this is one of those sayings which men love to repeat whether they are true or not. Such sayings themselves grow harder and adhere more firmly with age, and it would take many blows with a trowel to clean an old wiseacre of them.

(House-Warming)

In the savage state every family owns a shelter as good as the best, and sufficient for its coarser and simpler wants; but I think that I speak within bounds when I say that, though the birds of the air have their nests, and the foxes their holes, and the savages their wigwams, in modern civilized society not more than one half the families own a shelter. In the large towns and cities, where civilization especially prevails, the number of those who own a shelter is a very small fraction of the whole.

(Economy)

Ukridge knows nothing about fowls. I know less. He considers it an advantage. He says our minds ought to be unbiassed.

(Chapter VII)

"I was reading your last book the other day."

"Yes?" I said, gratified. "How did you like it?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, laddie, I didn't get beyond the third page, because the scurvy knave at the bookstall said he wasn't running a free library, and in one way and another there was a certain amount of unpleasantness. Still, it seemed bright and interesting up to page three. …”

(Chapter II)

"WASN'T I hungry!" Bunty said. His mouth was full of toast, and he was slicing the top off his fourth egg and keeping an eye on a dish that held honey in one compartment and clotted cream in another.

(Chapter XV)

" ... Children, I have bad news for you."

There was a breathless silence. Everyone crowded round her knees.

"Sentence has been proclaimed," said Judy dramatically: "let us shave our heads and don sackcloth."

"Your father says he cannot allow such conduct to go unpunished, especially as you have all been unusually tiresome lately; therefore: you are all--"

"To be taken away and hanged by the neck until we are dead!"

"Be quiet, Judy. I have tried my best to beg you off, but it only makes him more vexed. He says you are the untidiest, most unruly lot of children in Sydney, and he will punish you each time you do anything, and--"

"There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

(Chapter III)

Vi er destillatet av det som er gått galt i samfunnet. Hvordan skulle vi kunne skape noe nytt og annerledes?

When we express our thought in words, the medium is not found easily. There must be a process of translation, which is often inexact, and then we fall into error. But black eyes need no translating; the mind itself throws a shadow upon them. In them thought opens or shuts, shines forth, or goes out in darkness, hangs steadfast like the setting moon, or, like the swift and restless lightning, illumines all quarters of the sky.

(Subha)

In the room next to the one in which we boys used to sleep, there hung a human skeleton. In the night it would rattle in the breeze which played about its bones. In the day these bones were rattled by us. We were taking lessons in osteology from a student in the Campbell Medical School, for our guardians were determined to make us masters of all the sciences. How far they succeeded we need not tell those who know us; and it is better hidden from those who do not.

(The Skeleton)

Nei gutt, bli arkitekt eller lege! Hele vår sivilisasjon er oppbygd av nye hus og syke mennesker.

We had a notion to get out and join the sixty soldiers, but upon reflecting that there were four hundred of the Indians, we concluded to go on and join the Indians.

(Chapter XII)

A disorderly Chinaman is rare, and a lazy one does not exist. So long as a Chinaman has strength to use his hands he needs no support from anybody; white men often complain of want of work, but a Chinaman offers no such complaint; he always manages to find something to do. He is a great convenience to everybody--even to the worst class of white men, for he bears the most of their sins, suffering fines for their petty thefts, imprisonment for their robberies, and death for their murders. Any white man can swear a Chinaman's life away in the courts, but no Chinaman can testify against a white man. Ours is the "land of the free"--nobody denies that--nobody challenges it. [Maybe it is because we won't let other people testify.] As I write, news comes that in broad daylight in San Francisco, some boys have stoned an inoffensive Chinaman to death, and that although a large crowd witnessed the shameful deed, no one interfered.

(Chapter LIV)

Med hodet i et fang våknet Viljar et sted ute i Tyrifjorden. Han så på dem som var der og spurte med svak stemme:
"Kor e han Torje?"

En sivil båt med tre tungt bevæpnede politimenn kom inn mot skrenten.
Nå skyter de oss, tenkte Margrethe.
"Politi! Politi!" ropte mennene.
Ungdommene som lå skadet i vannkanten tenkte at enten er vi reddet, eller så er vi ferdig. Det var ingen panikk, ingen som flyktet, for om dette var kompisene til han første, så var overmakten uansett for stor, våpnene for grove.

Det var nettopp en nedarvet bunad Bano hadde kjøpt. Kvinnen som solgte den hadde overtatt bunader etter begge bestemødrene, og siden hun ikke hadde døtre, kunne hun like gjerne selge den ene.
Banos mormor var fra Kirkuk, farmoren fra Erbil. Bano hadde alltid vært stolt over sin kurdiske herkomst og opptatt av kurdernes kamp for sin kultur og egen nasjon. Stort sett snakket hun til foreldrene på kurdisk, mens småsøsknene helst svarte på norsk. Men her og nå, på 17. mai, var det Norges frihet og nasjon hun ville feire.
Plutselig var det noe som klang falskt.
"Så jeg vet ikke," nølte hun. "Jeg har egentlig ikke rett til å gå med den."
"Nå skal du høre," svarte faren. "Hvis noen skulle spørre, så si at du har en tipp-tipp-tipp-tippoldemor som forelsket seg i en norsk viking som var på tokt i Bagdad. For å unngå æresdrap for å ha forelsket seg i en vantro, måtte hun rømme med ham." sa han. "Til Trysil!"

Når han har mange jern i ilden, slik han har denne morgenen, og ikke vet hva han skal ta tak i først, mener Camille at "det som haster mest, er å ikke gjøre noe som helst".

Å la Armand betale vurderte han ikke engang. Hvis man spør Armand om han vil være med ut og spise betyr det at man spanderer.

En politikk som dyrker mistillit, er en villmarkens politikk. En katt som ikke stoler på et menneske, ser ikke mennesket i det, men et vilt dyr. Et menneske som ikke stoler på et annet menneske, ser også i ham et vilt dyr. Det gjensidige tillitsforholdet er eldre enn all sivilisasjon, og menneskeheten vil i denne tilliten forbli menneskehet. Men hvis tillitstilstanden brytes, vil menneskeverdenen blir et villdyrenes rike. Jeg skal nå gå og klappe kattepusen min, bare så dere vet det.

Du må forstå at hjarta våre må vere kjempestore og ha plass til alt vi er glade i.

Originaltekst:
Você precisa saber que o coração da gente tem que ser muito grande e caber tudo que a gente gosta.