He’d been around the island for a while, and I’m sorry to say that being bashed around in Battle and at raids had done nothing very good for his brains.

It was Peter’s island, Peter who’d brought us here, and in the back of every boy’s mind was some form of the same thought— He could send me back, if he wanted.

We were still children, for all that we thought we weren’t. We were in that in-between place, the twilight between childish things and grown-up things.

Yes, because it’s obviously better if you beat each other to death with rocks instead of stabbing each other like civilized human beings,” Sal muttered, looking away.

One of us will just have to stay at the cottage to keep an eye on her.' [...]
Let's see if Widow Hazel wouldn't take her in during the day, maybe teach her something useful -'
No, remember when she learned how to knit? Now we're stuck wearing these dreadful hats.'
Not so loud! She'll hear you.'
In a lower voice one of the dwarfs said, 'H.A.T.S.'
Apparently Snow White didn't know how to knit or to spell.

Peter had just forgotten, the way that Peter did forget about anything that wasn’t right in front of him at the moment.