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….

What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft and the lie? I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky. The subtle tongue, the so….

One objection I have heard voiced to works of this kind—dealing with Texas—is the amount of gore spilled across the pages. It can not be otherwise. I….

How can I wear the harness of toil And sweat at the daily round, While in my soul forever The drums of Pictdom sound?.

It is better to go in the dark when the road must pass a lion and there is no other road..

The more I see of what you call civilization, the more highly I think of what you call savagery!.

A woman in such an emotional tempest is as perilous as a blind cobra to any about her..

I see in the papers where Roy Guthrie committed suicide. Why, I wonder?.

Wits and swords are as straws against the wisdom of the Darkness..

Before the invader sound was born, the Universe was silent and shall be again..

Any but the most brutish of men must be touched with a certain awe or wonder at the baring of a woman's naked soul..

There comes, even to kings, the time of great weariness. Then the gold of the throne is brass, the silk of the palace becomes drab. The gems in the d….

I'm not going out of my way looking for devils; but I wouldn't step out of my path to let one go by..

Over the souls of men spread the condor wings of colossal monsters and all manner of evil things prey upon the heart and soul and body of Man. Yet it….

Barbarianism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural. It is the whim of circumstance. And barbarianism must ultimately triumph.

What is death but a traversing of eternities and a crossing of cosmic oceans?.

When a nation forgets her skill in war, when her religion becomes a mockery, when the whole nation becomes a nation of money-grabbers, then the wild ….

Time and times are but cogwheels, unmatched, grinding on oblivious to one another. Occasionally - oh, very rarely! - the cogs fit; the pieces of the ….

The printed page was like wine to me..

The poem you sent me was as fiery and virile as anything you've ever written - or anybody else, for that matter. Especially the second part went to m….

But not all men seek rest and peace; some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood..