Nathaniel Taggart had been a penniless adventurer who had come from somewhere in New England and built a railroad across a continent, in the days of the first steel rails. His railroad still stood; his battle to build it had dissolved into a legend, because people preferred not to understand it or to believe it possible.
When all the decent pleasures are forbidden, there's always ways to get the rotten ones. You don't break into grocery stores after dark and you don't pick your fellow's pockets to buy classical symphonies or fishing tackle, but if it's to get stinking drunk and forget you do.
They used to rush through here, and it was wonderful to watch, it was the hurry of men who knew where they were going and were eager to get there. Now they're hurrying because they are afraid. It's not a purpose that drives them, it's fear.
A country's standard of living, including the wages of its workers, depends on the productivity of labor; high productivity depends on machines, inventions, and capital investment; which depend on the creative ingenuity of individual men; which requires, for its exercise, a politico-economic system that protects the individual's rights and freedom.
Their terror had the evasive quality of guilt: it was not the fear that comes from understanding, but from the refusal to understand.
Your fear of death is not a love for life...