So this was a nest of radicals. She thought a hotbed of sedition would involve more gunpowder and secret handshakes, and less shuffling of feet and passing the sugar.

I am anything I wish to be. The world cannot choose for me. No, it is for me to choose what the world shall be.

If you want someone to tell you what to think..." "You will never be short of people willing to do so.

I want my chirfugging goose back!

If you want someone to tell you what to think," the phantom answered briskly, without looking up, "you will never be short of people willing to do so." . . . "Come now," he said at last, "you can hardly claim that I have left you ignorant. I taught you to read, did I not?

The world is like a broken wrist that healed the wrong way, and will never be the same again.

Every time I do what you say I tumble a bit farther down this well of darkness, an' this here is a drop too deep an' too dark for me. I have to stop falling while I can still see a bit of the sky.