This seemed easy off there.

The little puzzles that the world makes so much of solved themselves for me.

I saw them to be puzzles of the world's own creating--all artificial--all built up--fashioned clumsily enough from man's brute fear of the half-God, half-devil he has always made in his own image.
"But now that I'm here, Nance, I find myself already a little bewildered.

The solution of the puzzles is as simple as ever, but the puzzles themselves are more complex as I come closer to them--so complex that my simple answer will seem only a vague absurdity." He paused and she felt his eyes upon her--felt that he had turned from his abstractions to look at her more personally.
"Even since meeting you, Nance," he went on with an odd, inward note in his voice, "I've been wondering if Hoover could by some chance have been right.

When I left, Hoover said I was a fool--a certain common variety of fool." "Oh, I'm sure you're not--at least, not the common kind.