By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Connie, I’ve been thinking about that necklace again.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Who’s Miss Halliday? Not another literary female?’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Here,’ you said to yourself, ‘is an efficient young man in spectacles.’

By: Jack London

Many terrorist organizations unaffiliated with us sprang into existence and caused us much trouble.

By: Jack London

Soldiers and slaves lay together, torn and mangled.

By: Jack London

I remember one man they dragged out of a heap, who pleaded abjectly until a revolver shot cut him short.

By: Jack London

Over the city of the Mercenaries we saw a great captive war-balloon that burst even as we looked at it.

By: Jack London

The great driving force of the oligarchs is the belief that they are doing right.

By: Jack London

That night the hounds were out, and there was little sleep in the refuge.

By: Jack London

Not a philosophic anarchist, but a mere animal, mad with hate and lust for revenge.

By: H. De Vere Stacpoole

“Oh,” she cried, “why were you not him — if he had only been you.”

By: Jack London

It was a perfect hiding-place.

By: H. De Vere Stacpoole

“Even if I were an impostor you would dare to do nothing.”

By: H. De Vere Stacpoole

“No man can go up and seize another man in the street and say: You’re mad.”

By: Jack London

“You are lick-spittlers and panderers, the creatures of the Plutocracy.”