There are things greater than our wisdom, beyond our justice. The right and wrong of this we cannot say, and it is not for us to judge.

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

The word is too weak. There is no word in the language strong enough to describe my feelings.

Too much is written by the men who can't write about the men who do write.

I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.

But under it all they were men, penetrating the land of desolation and mockery and silence, puny adventurers bent on colossal adventure, pitting themselves against the might of a world as remote and alien and pulseless as the abysses of space.

The function of man is to live, not to exist.