I Am Unable To Rouse Much Interest

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.

Civilization Is A Network And A Maze Of Precedences And Custom.

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

Time And Times Are But Cogwheels, Unmatched, Grinding On Oblivious To One Another. Occasionally - Oh, Very Rarely! - The Cogs Fit; The Pieces Of The Plot Snap Together Momentarily And Give Men Faint Glimpses Beyond The Veil Of This Everyday Blindness We Call Reality.

Civilization Is A Natural And Inevitable Consequence - Whether Good Or Evil I Am Not Prepared To State.