Whatever Keaton did he did conscientiously – even the sentimentality which was completely alien to him. Friendless’ solitude and ostracism are constantly emphasised, by the photograph of his mother which he carries, by the harshness of the dealer, by the dog which simply walks away when Friendless tries to pat him, by the sadly comic little sequence in the big city where he is shoved and pushed and eventually walked over by the rushing crowds on the sidewalk. The most sentimental moment in all Keaton’s work – certainly no less moving than the ending of City Lights – is when he recognises Brown Eyes’ friendship. She has just saved him from the steer. Gratefully he gives her a tiny, cautious pat, and raises his hat. When she continues to follow him, he gazes at her, his face immobile, as much bewildered as touched by this unfamiliar affection.

David Robinson, Buster Keaton, Thames & Hudson. British Film Institute, London 1970

 The most beautiful leading lady he ever had, was Brown Eyes in Go West. It was a little Jersey cow, and they wanted her to stay with Buster all the way through the film, so they started out training her with a little rope around her neck and he would feed her little titbits and he made friends with her and they got to where they didn’t need that much control. By the time they started shooting the film, they took just black sewing thread and tied it around her neck and tied it to his little finger. Everywhere he went she stayed right with him and it never broke that thread. It got to the point where she tried to go into his dressing room with him.

Eleonor Keaton, in Kevin Brownlow, A Hard Act to Follow, from the author’s manuscript