But maybe the last part of the symphony was the music she loved the best—glad and like the greatest people in the world, running and springing up in a hard, free way. Wonderful music like this was the worst hurt there could be. The whole world was this symphony and there was not enough of her to listen. (118–119)
The strike that was talked about never came off because they could not get together. All was the same as before. Even on the coldest nights the Sunny Dixie show was open. The people dreamed and fought and slept as much as ever. And by habit they shortened their thoughts so much that they would not wander into the darkness beyond tomorrow. (199)
He was stunned by the memories brought to him with the perfume, not because of their clarity, but because they gathered together the whole long span of years and were complete. The boundary of death. He felt in him each minute that he had lived with her. And now their life together was whole as only the past can be whole. (224)
In the face of brutality I was patient. Before injustice I held my peace. I sacrificed things in hand for the good of the hypothetical whole. I believed in the tongue instead of the fist. As an armor against oppression I taught patience and faith in the human soul. I know now how wrong I was. I have been a traitor to myself and to my people. All that is rot. And now is the time to act and act quickly. Fight cunning with cunning and might with might. (301–302)
You will recall that my only advice to you was: Do not attempt to stand alone. [...] But once you enter this it must be all. First and foremost. Your work now and forever. You must give of your whole self without stint, without personal return, without rest or without hope of rest. (303)
"I believe in all us struggling along and helping each other out, and some day we will have a reward in the Beyond."
"Pshaw!" Doctor Copeland said bitterly. "I believe in justice now."