- Why you?
- (...) I’m the best.
- Modest of you.
- I am the best. Modesty has nothing to say about it.

Force is as pitiless to the man who possesses it as it is to its victims—the second it crushes, the first it intoxicates.

...his soul (was) ringing like a well-struck bell. But it was a bell that rang with more than joy and adoration — there was the sound there too of anger and resentment. She would not look at him because she did not want to be in his presence. She hated him and he (how could he not?) hated her in return.

Get on your feet or die.

Even for the very clever it can be like breaking bones to stand back from something that’s been in front of you all your life.

Self-pity, while it should be accorded due respect, is the greatest of all acids to the human soul.