“The officer grinned cheerfully at Ralph.'We saw your smoke. What have you been doing? Having a war or something?'Ralph nodded.The officer inspected the little scarecrow in front of him. The kid needed a bath, a haircut, a nose-wipe and a good deal of ointment.'Nobody killed, I hope? Any dead bodies?''Only two. And they've gone.'The officer leaned down and looked closely at Ralph.'Two? Killed?'Ralph nodded again. Behind him, the whole island was shuddering with flame. The officer knew, as a rule, when people were telling the truth. He whistled softly.”

“It was this little troublemaker named Ralph Waldo Duffy. Ralph Waldo is the one who really ruined the pageant. He picked up the baby Jesus by the feet, and your mother stood up in front of God and everybody and yelled, 'Joseph, put Jesus down before I smack you.' Even then she had the makings of a good mother.”

“Maybe, he said hesitantly, maybe there is a beast. The assembly cried out savagely and Ralph stood up in amazement. You, Simon? You believe in this? I don't know, said Simon. His heartbeats were choking him. [...]Ralph shouted. Hear him! He's got the conch! What I mean is . . . maybe it's only us. Nuts! That was from Piggy, shocked out of decorum.”

“The rules!" shouted Ralph, "you're breaking the rules!""Who cares?”

“Then he remembered Ralph's words--"no point in fighting your war over and over until you get it right.”

“Which is better -- to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is?Which is better -- to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill?Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?”