“Dear Sir: Regarding your article 'What's Wrong with the World?' I am. Yours truly,”

“I have called this book "What Is Wrong with the World?" and the upshot of the title can be easily and clearly stated. What is wrong is that we do not ask what is right.”

“Of the last two friends of yours who had the modern mind; one thought it wrong to eat fishes and the other thought it right to eat men...”

“The Reformer is always right about what's wrong. However, he's often wrong about what is right.”

“I regard golf as an expensive way of playing marbles.”

“Then may I ask you to swear by whatever gods or saints your religion involves that you will not reveal what I am now going to tell you to any son of Adam, and especially not to the police? Will you swear that! If you will take upon yourself this awful abnegation, if you will consent to burden your soul with a vow that you should never make and a knowledge you should never dream about, I will promise you in return—""You will promise me in return?" inquired Syme, as the other paused."I will promise you a very entertaining evening."Syme suddenly took off his hat."Your offer," he said, "is far too idiotic to be declined. You say that a poet is always an anarchist. I disagree; but I hope at least that he is always a sportsman. Permit me, here and now, to swear as a Christian, and promise as a good comrade and a fellow-artist, that I will not report anything of this, whatever it is, to the police. And now, in the name of Colney Hatch, what is it?""I think," said Gregory, with placid irrelevancy, "that we will call a cab.”

“You have not wasted your time; you have helped to save the world. We are not buffoons, but very desperate men at war with a vast conspiracy.”