“By definition, locks are designed to tell you what you can’t do.”

Peter spends his life overcoming obstacles—first his blindness and then, the locked doors of the townspeople he steals from. To him, a lock is an invitation to see what’s on the other side. As a result, locks that would stop most ordinary children are, to Peter, simply another puzzle to solve.

“‘Very well, little blind boy—’”

“‘Peter,’ he corrected. ‘Peter Nimble.’”

When Peter first meets Sir Tode, the knight, adhering to the code of chivalry, feels it is his “sworn duty to protect the meek” (47). He defines Peter by his disability. Peter, however, is quick to correct his new friend. He has a name that defines him more accurately than little and blind. Having spent his life proving himself just as adept as a sighted person, Peter wants Sir Tode to understand immediately that he is not helpless.

“‘The word “test” makes me think of school.’ The professor shuddered slightly.”

Peter asks Professor Cake if finding the magical eyes was a test. The professor responds that, while Peter passed, he doesn’t like the word “test.” The professor’s aversion to this school word is ironic, given his academic title. Auxier suggests something subversive about education here: the most important tests don’t happen in school, but rather in life. Peter has never seen the inside of a classroom, but he knows more about the world than many adults with advanced educations.