Ugly facts like these have to be looked in the face--it's no use putting them behind one's back, and murmuring beautiful lies about 'mother-love' and such nonsense.

As for the old Mosaic commandment 'Honour thy father and mother'-- it's ordinary newspaper reading to hear of boys and girls attacking and murdering their parents for the sake of a few dollars." "You've got the ugly facts by heart"-- said Gwent slowly--"But there's another and more cheerful outlook--if you choose to consider it.
Newspaper reading always gives the worst and dirtiest side of everything--it wouldn't be newspaper stuff if it was clean.

Newspapers remind me of the rotting heaps in gardens--all the rubbish piled together till the smell becomes a nuisance--then a good burning takes place of the whole collection and it makes a sort of fourth-rate manure." He paused a moment--then went on-- "I'm not given to sentiment, but I dare say there are still a few folks who love each other in this world,--and it's good to know of when they do.

My sister"-- he paused again, as if something stuck in his throat; "My sister loved her boy,--Jack.

His death has driven her silly for the time--doctors say she will recover--that it's only 'shock.' 'Shock' is answerable for a good many tragedies since the European war." Seaton moved impatiently, but said nothing, "You're a bit on the fidgets"-- resumed Gwent, placidly--"You want me to come to business--and I will.