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

“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?”

“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.”

“The skull regarded Ralph like one who knows all the answers but won't tell.”

“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.”

“We've got to have rules and obey them. After all, we're not savages. We're English, and the English are best at everything.”

“Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.”