the calm of a place like Bellwood is the peace of death without the hope of resurrection.

McKnight is gradually taking over the criminal end of the business.

When a great burden is lifted, the relief is not always felt at once. The galled places still ache.

I began to feel that if religion was either an illusion or a revelation, it was simpler to accept it as an illusion.

I hate those men who would send into war youth to fight and die for them; the pride and cowardice of those old men, making their wars that boys must die.

What a tragedy it was that the only thing age could offer to youth was its own experience, and that the experiences of others were never profitable.

the theater is the only money-making business I know in which haste apparently rules from first to last.