It is always of interest to know what strikes another human being as remarkable.

We never get accustomed to being less important to other people than they are to us.

Any man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God.

You cannot conceive, nor can I, of the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.

They had been corrupted by money, and he had been corrupted by sentiment. Sentiment was the more dangerous, because you couldn’t name its price. A man open to bribes was to be relied upon below a certain figure, but sentiment might uncoil in the heart at a name, a photograph, even a smell remembered.

If you live in a place for long you cease to read about it.

I wish sometimes you had a few bad motives, you might understand a little more about human beings.