Dead men tell no tales, Mary.

There is no going back in life. There is no return. No second chance.

Watch that boy. He's going to startle somebody someday.

Once a person gave his talent to the world, the world put a stamp upon it. The talent was not a personal possession any more. It was something to be traded, bought and sold. It fetched a high price, or a low one. It was kicked in the common market.

If you think I'm one of the people who try to be funny at breakfast you're wrong. I'm invariably illtempered in the early morning.

Why, he wondered, should he remember her suddenly, on such a day, watching the rain falling on the apple trees?

You had to endure something yourself before it touched you.