When you can't see any reason for loving a person, you must be loving him as a symbol of something, don't you think so?

In the busy city, dying might be resented as a breach of good taste, and the body hastily dispatched to the undertaker and the crematorium but in Lost Haven, where a man's mates had to turn out and dig his grave, it was an occasion shared by the whole community.

The civilization of cities is breeding a new race of monks who have none of the original religious drive towards chastity, but are just incapable of facing the responsibilities of marriage.