Humanity itself is dry-rotten, really.

There are myriads of human beings hanging on the bush--and they look very nice and rosy, your healthy young men and women.

But they are apples of Sodom, as a matter of fact, Dead Sea Fruit, gall-apples.

It isn't true that they have any significance--their insides are full of bitter, corrupt ash.' 'But there ARE good people,' protested Ursula.
'Good enough for the life of today.

But mankind is a dead tree, covered with fine brilliant galls of people.' Ursula could not help stiffening herself against this, it was too picturesque and final.