The Countess talking to her white raven

[cimorene]

“Ah-ha,” she said slowly, as though she had come to a conclusion, “so it is you, is it? So it is the truant back again. Where has he been? What has he been doing? What trees has he been sitting in? What clouds has he been flying through? What a boy he is! What a bunch of feathered whiteness. What a bunch of wickedness!”

—Mervyn Peake, Titus Groan

 

...I paraphrase this frequently at Snookums when he goes more than a few hours not sitting on my lap.