“John,” she said, “does it make every one—unhappy when they study and learn lots of things?”He paused and smiled. “I am afraid it does,” he said.“And, John, are you glad you studied?”“Yes,” came the answer, slowly but positively.She watched the flickering lights upon the sea, and said thoughtfully, “I wish I was unhappy,—and—and,” putting both arms about his neck, “I think I am, a little, John.”
“There's one thing you need to understand," Larry said. "We love because God first loved us, even in the face of all our unloveliness." He paused. He seemed to want to give John time to think about that. Then he said, "Go home and love your wife John."I'm afraid I can't find the strength in myself to do that, Larry."Pastor Larry leaned forward, smiling tenderly. "That's good, my friend," he said. "Now we're getting somewhere.”
“After John gave his little speech to the orchestra, he turned to Paulie and said, "What do you think, mate? Are you with me or not." Paul said, "Not. You're on your own." John said, "No, I'm not on my own. You're with me. I was being rhetorical. It wasn't a question." Paul said, "Yes, it was. You said, 'Are you with me or not?' You started your sentence with the word 'are'. By definition, any sentence with the word 'are' at the beginning of it is a question." John said, "That's not necessarily true. I didn't upturn my voice, and if there's no upturn, there's no question.”
“Fathers are always so proud the first time they see their sons in uniform," she said."I know Big John Karpinski was," I said. He is my neighbor to the north, of course. Big John's son Little John did badly in high school, and the police caught him selling dope. So he joined the Army while the Vietnam War was going on. And the first time he came home in uniform, I never saw Big John so happy, because it looked to him as though Little John was all straightened out and would amount to something.But then Little John came home in a body bag.”
“...Perhaps you didn't say much about him, mother, but Gerald said lots - dreadful things!''Yes,' said the Duchess, 'he said what he thought. The present generation does, you know. To the uninitiated, I admit, dear, it does sound a little rude.”
“I'd like to think that I am wrong, that those words mean nothing, that there's no conscious intention and no avenger behind the ending of the human race. But when I hear them repeating that question, I feel afraid. I think of the man who said that he would stop the motor of the world. You see, his name was John Galt.”