There is something shameful about the death of a play. It does not die with pity, but contempt.

Lightning never strikes twice in the same place.

Young Doctor Arden was gong through the process of reorienting himself after a night's sleep.

Well, that was life. It was an old tree, and the old passed on. Probably they did not mind. There came a time when all sap ran slowly, and the peace of age with all things behind it merged easily into the peace of death. The difficult thing was to be young.

Used to move so much, every time the chickens saw the team put in the wagon, they'd lie down on their backs and hold their legs up to be tied!

There is nothing for the modern man or woman to fear about most cases of cancer. Nothing except delay.

[On the Irish:] Strange race ... Don't know what they want, but want it like the devil.