No Man Can Be Convinced When He

Life Is But A Web Spun Of Ghosts And Dreams And Illusions.

Hither Came Conan, The Cimmerian, Black-haired, Sullen-eyed, Sword In Hand, A Thief, A Reaver, A Slayer, With Gigantic Melancholies And Gigantic Mirth, To Tread The Jeweled Thrones Of The Earth Under His Sandaled Feet.

I Reckon If I Ever Marry, She Will Have To Be A Strong Woman In A Circus Or Something.

I Know This: If Life Is Illusion, Then I Am No Less An Illusion, And Being Thus, The Illusion Is Real To Me. I Live, I Burn With Life, I Love, I Slay, And Am Content.

It Is Better To Go In The Dark When The Road Must Pass A Lion And There Is No Other Road.