The Devil is precise, the marks of his presence are definite.
A person is either with this court or he must be counted against it, there be no road between.
We burn a hot fire here; it melts down all concealment.
We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise.
I will not receive a single plea for pardon or postponement. Them that will not confess will hang.
God damns a liar less than he that throws his life away for pride.
I have seen too many frightful proofs in court— the Devil is alive in Salem, and we dare not quail to follow wherever the accusing finger points!
The pure in heart need no lawyers.
I have not your talent in lies, Hale.
Do that which is good, and no harm shall come to thee.
We must tell the truth, Mr. Proctor. We are only what we always were, but naked now.
Hang them high over the town! Who weeps for these, weeps for corruption!
I have been called a hard man, Mr. Proctor.
Theology, sir, is a fortress; no crack in a fortress may be accounted small.
I will come to you in the black of some terrible night and I will bring a pointy reckoning that will shudder you.
Now, sir, you sit your women-folk here, and I’ll sit my family in Hell!
You misunderstand, sir; I cannot pardon these when twelve are already hanged for the same crime.
Repentance is all!
Gods damn my name that went to Salem against my will!
You charge treason on very slight evidence.
I cannot blink what I saw, Abigail, for my enemies will not blink it.
You must understand, sir, that a person is either with this court or he must be counted against it, there be no road between.
Do you know who I am? I say you will hang if you do not open with me!
I’ll tell you what’s walking Salem—vengeance is walking Salem.
Are you certain she never saw them?
Postponement now speaks a floundering on my part; reprieve or pardon must cast doubt upon the guilt of them that died till now.
Who is this woman?
There is none but Putnam with the coin to buy so great a piece. This man is killing his neighbors for their land.
I judge nothing. I tell you straight, Mister—I have seen marvels in this court room.
This is a sharp time, now, a precise time—we live no longer in the dusky afternoon when evil mixed itself with good and befuddled the world.
I am a stranger here, as you know. In my ignorance I find it hard to draw a clear opinion of them that come accused before the court.
Excellency, I would postpone these hangings for a time.
You misunderstand, sir; I cannot pardon these when twelve are already hanged for the same crime. It is not just.
I judge nothing. I tell you straight, Mister—I have seen marvels in this court.
You will surely tell the court how that poppet come here and who stuck the needle in.
There is a prodigious power in the press.
You misunderstand, sir; I cannot pardon these when twelve are already hanged for the same crime. It is not just.
I am a stranger here, as you know. In my ignorance I find it hard to draw a clear opinion of them that come accused before the court.
Excellency, I would postpone these hangings for a time.
Excellency, it is enough he confess himself. Let him sign it, let him sign it.
Oh, it is a black mischief.
Listen to me-we cannot weep for these men. We cannot weep for them. We are the damned.
Excellency, I submit to you these documents as evidence, in my hand, in the hand of Mr. Thomas Putnam, and in the hands of Mr. Johnathan Walcott.
Proceed, Mr. Danforth.”
I’ll tell you what’s walking Salem—vengeance is walking Salem.
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