Death, Only, Renders Hope Futile.

This Was Life! Ah, How He Loved It! Civilization Held Nothing Like This In Its Narrow And Circumscribed Sphere, Hemmed In By Restrictions And Conventionalities. Even Clothes Were A Hindrance And A Nuisance. At Last He Was Free. He Had Not Realized What A Prisoner He Had Been.

Death, Only, Renders Hope Futile.

I Knew Nothing About The Technique Of Story Writing, And Now, After Eighteen Years Of Writing, I Still Know Nothing About The Technique, Although With The Publication Of My New Novel, Tarzan And The Lost Empire, There Are 31 Books On My List.

Clothes Therefore, Must Be The Insignia Of The Superiority Of Man Over All Other Animals, For Surely There Could Be No Other Reason For Wearing The Hideous Things

In One Respect At Least The Martians Are A Happy People, They Have No Lawyers.