Ben Nicholson: Poverty enriches the soul but impoverishes the publisher!
Donald Fletcher: Mr. Aitken, your father created this (publishing) house. It's his name and yours this man is degrading, even if you don't fully control the business any more.
Edmond Aitken: Decency means nothing to a man who does not know what it is. His idea of literature is the scribbling on washroom walls. That swamp he calls his brain spawns a virus that infects minds and bodies.
Donald Fletcher: I sell magazines Mr. Aitken, not morality.
Edmond Aitken: You see? A virus can't be talked to, it must be exterminated.