The sky aft was dark as pitch, but the moon still shone brightly ahead of us and lit up the blackness. Beneath its sheen a huge white-topped breaker, twenty feet high or more, was rushing on to us. It was on the break-the moon shone on its crest and tipped its foam with light. On it rushed beneath the inky sky, driven by the awful squall behind it.

The food that memory gives to eat is bitter to the taste, and it is only with the teeth of hope that we can bear to bite it.

A sharp spear needs no polish.

Civilization is only savagery silver-gilt.

There is no such things as magic, though there is such a thing as knowledge of the hidden ways of Nature.

Adventurer: he that goes to meet whatever may come. Well, that is what we all do in the world one way or another.

How can a world be good in which Money is the moving power, and Self-interest the guiding star?