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The conquest of the earth is not a pretty thing.

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Every age is fed on illusions, lest men should renounce life early and the human race come to an end.

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Fiction, at the point of development at which it has arrived, demands from the writer a spirit of scrupulous abnegation.The only legitimate of all the...more

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I let him run on, this papier-maché Mephistopheles, and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and would find nothing...more

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There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies - which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world - what I want to forget.

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He seemed to hasten the retreat of departing light by his very presence; the setting sun dipped sharply, as though fleeing before our nigger; a black ...more