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— Richard Whately"Falsehood, like the dry-rot, flourishes the more in proportion as air and light are excluded."
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Who turns away from gazing at the sun Sees its dusk images fill all the air. It is not otherwise when Hope is done: Her darkling phantoms make the heaven of Despair.
— Edith M. Thomas
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As I holed up in the City of Angels, I was also aware of a comforting feeling of anonymity. In the world's biggest third-class city I could pass unnoticed. I spoke the language. I was familiar with the currency. I could drink the water. I could almost breathe the air, late April air, compounded of interesting hydrocarbons.
— John D. MacDonald
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