"You may think it charming. I think it's devilish. Do you know he spent the whole of yesterday evening trying to turn me against you, and almost succeeded?"
"Did he? How silly. Aloysius wouldn't approve of that at all, would you, you pompous old bear?" (1.2.78-9)
"Oh, Mummy likes everything to be a present. She's so sweet," he said, adding one more line to the picture I was forming of her.
Now Sebastian had disappeared into that other life of hi where I was not asked to follow, and I was left, instead, forlorn and regretful. (1.3.4-5)
I saw, in my mind's eye, the pale face of Anthony Blanche, peering through the straggling leaves as it had peered through the candle flames at Thame, and heard, above the murmur of traffic, his clear tones […] "You mustn't blame Sebastian if at times he seems a little insipid. […] When I hear him talk I am reminded of that in some ways nauseating picture of 'Bubbles.' […] Boredom […] like a cancer in the breast [...]"
For days after that I thought I hated Sebastian. (1.3.94-5)