I Had Neither Expert Aid Nor Advice.

How Can I Wear The Harness Of Toil And Sweat At The Daily Round, While In My Soul Forever The Drums Of Pictdom Sound?

I Became A Writer In Spite Of My Environments.

My Characters Are More Like Men Than These Real Men Are, See. They're Rough And Rude, They Got Hands And They Got Bellies. They Hate And They Lust; Break The Skin Of Civilization And You Find The Ape, Roaring And Red-handed.

I Never Saw A Man Fight As Conan Fought. He Put His Back To The Courtyard Wall, And Before They Overpowered Him The Dead Men Were Strewn In Heaps Thigh-deep About Him. But At Last They Dragged Him Down, A Hundred Against One.

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