The water rose further and dressed Simon's coarse hair with brightness. The line of his cheek silvered and the turn of his shoulder became sculptured marble.

Which is better -- to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is? Which is better -- to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill? Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?

You'll get back to where you came from.

Nothing is so impenetrable as laughter in a language you don't understand.

What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages?

I am astonished at the ease with which uninformed persons come to a settled, a passionate opinion when they have no grounds for judgment.

Life's scientific, but we don't know, do we? Not certainly, I mean.