She spoke very gently, full of compassion for the boy, velveting her reproach for me.

You remind me of a two-year-old, Dinny—one of those whipcordy chestnuts that kick up their heels in the paddock, get left at the post, and come in first after all.

This chapter contains some of the most humorous writing on the overside of the narrative, and the most serious on the underside.

[…] when you squander your money on treats and comfort foods, you are engaging in abligurition (excessive spending on food […])