The Printed Page Was Like Wine To

One Man's Bane Is Another's Bliss.

In The Hill Country, Civilization Steals In Last, And The People Retain Much Of The Crude But Vigorous Mode Of Expression Of The Colonial Days And Earlier.

Money And Muscle, That's What I Want; To Be Able To Do Any Damned Thing I Want And Get Away With It. Money Won't Do That Altogether, Because If A Man Is A Weakling, All The Money In The World Won't Enable Him To Soak An Enemy Himself; On The Other Hand, Unless He Has Money He May Not Be Able To Get Away With It.

It Is Not Pleasant To Come Upon Death In A Lonely Place At Midnight.

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, And Am Content.