The Only Safe Enemy Was A Headless

Let Me Live Deep While I Live; Let Me Know The Rich Juices Of Red Meat & Stinging Wine On My Palate, The Hot Embrace Of White Arms, The Mad Exultation Of Battle When The Blue Blades Flame Crimson, And I Am Content"......conan The Cimmerian.

I Am Unable To Rouse Much Interest In Any Highly Civilized Race, Country Or Epoch, Including This One.

It Was No Ape, Neither Was It A Man. It Was Some Shambling Horror Spawned In The Mysterious, Nameless Jungles Of The South, Where Strange Life Teemed In The Reeking Rot Without The Dominance Of Man, And Drums Thundered In Temples That Had Never Known The Tread Of A Human Foot.

I Became A Writer In Spite Of My Environments.

It Seems To Me That Many Writers, By Virtue Of Environments Of Culture, Art And Education, Slip Into Writing Because Of Their Environments.