How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph.)
Quote #1
"Going in her?"
The little man seemed to evade the question, but then as if some explanation were required: "I was just looking," he said. "I suppose she'll be sailing soon?" (1.1.22-23)
The priest, called the little man here, intends to board the boat and escape the area. If he would be doing so openly, albeit without revealing his identity, why evade the question? Does his evasion make him seem more suspicious or less?
Quote #2
[…] one man had conformed to the Governor's law that all priests must marry. He lived now near the river with his housekeeper. That, of course, was the best solution of all, to leave the living witness to the weakness of their faith. It showed the deception they had practiced all these years. For if they really believed in heaven or hell, they wouldn't mind a little pain now, in return for what immensities… (1.2.50)
Notice how the married priest, Padre José, functions as an anti-martyr—he's a witness to the lies of the faith he practiced. As we learn elsewhere, he thinks of himself as the biggest martyr of all because he'll have to suffer indefinitely. Where the executed priests blink and get executed, he gets to continue living in this sick sad world. No, he's not a giant like Fezzik from The Princess Bride. He's the star witness of the secular state: the living testament that Catholicism is a lie.
Quote #3
"[…] I don't believe all that they write in these books. We are human." (1.2.81)
We wonder if this is Graham Greene secretly voicing his opinion about popular books about saints, which tend to highlight their heroism while keeping the less savory aspects of their lives in the dark. We might call The Power and the Glory an attempt to write a more human saint story.
Quote #4
"Renounce your faith," she explained, using the words of her European history. "He said, "It's impossible. There's no way. I'm a priest. It's out of my power." (1.3.125-6)
The priest doesn't hesitate to hide his identity to deceive the government soldiers and police, but he flat out refuses to renounce his faith as a deception. Does he see a moral difference between these two lies? Do we ever get a clear sense of where he draws the line? What wouldn't the priest lie about to keep his identity secret? And most importantly—will he be on Santa's naughty list this Christmas?
Quote #5
He was the only priest the children could remember: it was from him they would take their ideas of the faith. (2.1.51)
The priest knows he's not a holy man, but a man of vice whose sinful behavior teaches more than his saintly words. He makes his faith seem like a lie, but he's the only one who can speak with authority on its truth. Nelly and Kelly might call this a dilemma.
Quote #6
For a matter of seconds he felt an immense satisfaction that he could talk of suffering to them now without hypocrisy—it is hard for the sleek and well-fed priest to praise poverty. (2.1.95)
It was this sort of hypocrisy that inspired the lieutenant to purge the state of priests, but in effect the lieutenant has made them more sincere witnesses. Under oppression, the priests have to live poor and under the threat of death—just like Jesus and many of the early Christians.
Quote #7
"You're fools if you still believe what the priests tell you. All they want is your money. What has God ever done for you? […] Oh, everything will be fine when you are dead, they say. I tell you, everything will be fine when they are dead, and you must help." (2.1.117)
The lieutenant should remember Westley's line from The Princess Bride: "We are men of action. Lies do not become us." He's speaking in the same simplistic caricatures he so despises in the clergy.
Quote #8
"Have you ever seen the priest?"
"No."
[…]
"Are you married?"
"Yes." (2.1.122-7)
This exchange between the lieutenant and the priest is peculiar because the priest, who usually deceives others indirectly, makes statements that are flatly untrue.
Quote #9
"Won't you say a prayer, father, before we sleep?"
"Why do you call me that?" he asked sharply, peering across the shadowy floor to where the half-caste sat against the door.
"Oh, I guessed, of course. But you needn't be afraid of me. I'm a good Christian."
"You're wrong." (2.1.287-290)
The priest and the half-caste are both deceiving each other and know they're each being deceived. Are they both wrong to lie? Does it matter that the priest deceives with evasion while the half-caste tells blatant lies? Is there a moral difference between these two deceptions?
Quote #10
He had always been worried by the fate of pious women. As much as politicians, they fed on illusion. (2.3.79)
Greene is describing a common phenomenon in Catholic parish life: a false reverence for the Church and its clergy. In Catholic theology, the Church acts in the world on behalf of God, but it is also a human institution run by sinners. The priest isn't necessarily the holiest person in a congregation (kind of like how a teacher isn't necessarily the smartest person in a class), and it's an illusion to believe that he is. Notice the woman the priest is speaking to in the prison has a pure image of him because he's a priest. When he shatters her illusion, she wishes him dead.