In the busy city, dying might be resented as a breach of good taste, and the body hastily dispatched to the undertaker and the crematorium; but in Lost Haven, where a man's mates had to turn out and dig his grave, it was an occasion shared by the whole community.

once a policy, like a set of steel rails, had been laid down for him by his superiors, his obedience ran along it unswerving.

Life was a fool's errand, carrying news to the worms.

Tragedy is something that happens to a lot of people - it's a tragedy if you react with handwringing.

In the busy city, dying might be resented as a breach of good taste, and the body hastily dispatched to the undertaker and the crematorium; but in Lost Haven, where a man's mates had to turn out and dig his grave, it was an occasion shared by the whole community.

The civilization of cities is breeding a new race of monks who have none of the original religious drive towards chastity, but are just incapable of facing the responsibilities of marriage.

When you can't see any reason for loving a person, you must be loving him as a symbol of something, don't you think so?