“Colonel Cathcart was impervious to absolutes. He could measure his own progress only in relationship to others, and his idea of excellence was to do something at least as well as all the men his own age who were doing the same thing even better.”

“The chaplain glanced at the bridge table that served as his desk and saw only the abominable orange-red, pear-shaped, plum tomato he had obtained that same morning from Colonel Cathcart, still lying on its side where he had forgotten it like an indestructible and incarnadine symbol of his own ineptitude.”

“Who is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others, and in their pleasure takes joy, even as though 'twere his own. ”

“For all his frustrations and his chronic sense of being overburdened. He was proud of that; he’d always felt that it was worth doing a task properly if it was worth doing at all. That was part of his problem, of course; that was why he ended up with so much to do. It was also the source of his own particular pride: he knew--and he was certain they knew that there was no one else who could handle details such as these as well as he.”

“Every man must do two things alone; he must do his own believing and his own dying..”

“The crusts, or at least what he assumed was crusts, were already rolled out flat rounds."How many do we need?" Because he could eat one of these all on his own."One for Uncle Slayde and Jenny. One for me and Maggie. One for…Who do you share with?""I think I can probably eat the whole thing by myself." He patted his belly. "What do you think?"Christian looked at him. "You could prob'ly eat a whole elephant.”