“You stole a boat,” she snapped. “What am I doing with you, you boat-stealing lunatic?”

“What happened?" he demanded. "I heard an explosion!"

"Yeah. That was me. I set the boat alight."

"What?"

"I set fire to the boat."

"But we're on the boat!"

"I know.”

“Down we go,” said Paddy. “Now pray to Saint Anthony if you be a good Catholic—”
“I'm not,” snapped Fay, “and if you'll give more mind to the boat and less to religion we’ll gain by it.”

“A boat is always safe in the harbor, but that's not what boats are built for.”

“That's what sailing is, a dance, and your partner is the sea. And with the sea you never take liberties. You ask her, you don't tell her. You have to remember always that she's the leader, not you. You and your boat are dancing to her tune.”

“Ah, well… hell is full of burning boats, did you know that, Nadir? I daresay that's what makes it so bloody hot.”

“Don't try to behave as though you were essentially sane and naturally good. We're all demented sinners in the same cosmic boat - and the boat is perpetually sinking.”

“She must find a boat and sail in it. No guarantee of shore. Only a conviction that what she wanted could exist, if she dared to find it.”

“Dear Miss Glory, we've already had at least a hundred saviors and prophets here. Every boat brings another one. Missionaries, anarchists, the Salvation Army, everything imaginable. It would amaze you to know how many churches and lunatics there are in the world.”

“To think of Russians sitting on a bench in Nuremberg, trying German leaders! The Russians sank a German boat with men, women, and children aboard. I know of the case. But is that investigated? You Americans weren't completely without fault, either. You armed merchant boats before the U. S. A. was in the war.”