What most people don't seem to realize is that there is just as much money to be made out of the wreckage of a civilization as from the upbuilding of one.

No matter what rallying cries the orators give to the idiots who fight, no matter what noble purposes they assign to wars, there is never but one reason for a war. And that is money. All wars are in reality money squabbles.

The usual masculine dissillusionment is discovering that a woman has a brain

I'll think of it tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Vanity was stronger than love at sixteen and there was no room in her hot heart now for anything but hate.

I wonder if anyone but me realizes what goes on in that head back of your deceptively sweet face.

Babies, babies, babies. Why did God make so many babies? But no, God didn't make them. Stupid people made them.