“How can you tell a man there’s nothing to do? I can’t imagine a situation in which there could ever be nothing to do! Do it for mankind and don’t worry about the rest. There’s so much to do that a lifetime won’t be enough, if you look around attentively.”
“There’s nothing you can’t do if you want it bad enough.”
“You ever get the feeling all hell’s about to break loose and there’s nothing you can do about it?”
“There’s nothing––absolutely nothing––half so much worth doing as messing about in boats.”
“Yes.’ He drank it all down and then casually threw the glass at the fireplace. I stared at the fragments. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ He gestured to the broken glass with a sarcastic smile. ‘I surely hope you don’t, because there’s nothing much you can do about it if you do mind.”
“If there’s something I can’t do but want to, I won’t relax until I’m able to do it.”