San Francisco is gone. Nothing remains of it but memories.

Make good the good in you...and you will slowly steal into the Hawaiian heart, which is all of softness, and gentleness, and sweetness.

He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.

Everything is good . . . as long as it is unpossessed. Satiety and possession are Death's horses they run in span.

There is such a thing as anaesthesia of pain, engendered by pain too exquisite to be borne.

The scab is a traitor to his God, his mother, and his class.

A good soldier is a blind, heartless, soulless, murderous machine. He is not a man. His is not a brute, for brutes kill only in self defense. All that is human in him, all that is divine in him, all that constitutes the man has been sworn away when he took the enlistment roll. His mind, his conscience, aye, his very soul, are in the keeping of his officer. No man can fall lower than a soldier-it is a depth beneath which we cannot go.