What Always Was Must Always Be.

I Think The Real Reason So Many Youngsters Are Clamoring For Freedom Of Some Vague Sort, Is Because Of Unrest And Dissatisfaction With Present Conditions; I Don't Believe This Machine Age Gives Full Satisfaction In A Spiritual Way, If The Term May Be Allowed.

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.

What Shall A Man Say When A Friend Has Vanished Behind The Doors Of Death? A Mere Tangle Of Barren Words, Only Words.

It Is An Ill Thing To Meet A Man You Thought Dead In The Woodland At Dusk.

I Have Not Been A Success, And Probably Never Will Be.