“The ‘punch’ of a truly weird tale is simply some violation or transcending of fixed cosmic law – an imaginative escape from palling reality – hence, phenomena rather than persons are the logical ‘heroes.’”

I could not write about ‘ordinary people’ because I am not in the least interested in them.

Adulthood is hell.

Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.

Man’s respect for the imponderables varies according to his mental constitution and environment. Through certain modes of thought and training, it can be elevated tremendously, yet there is always a limit.

To the scientist there is the joy in pursuing truth which nearly counteracts the depressing revelations of truth.

From my experience, I cannot doubt but that man, when lost to terrestrial consciousness, is indeed sojourning in another and uncorporeal life of far different nature from the life we know; and of which only the slightest and most indistinct memories linger after waking.

The end of a story must be stronger rather than weaker than the beginning, since it is the end which contains the denouement or culmination and which will leave the strongest impression upon the reader.

The sole ultimate factor in human decisions is physical force. This we must learn, however repugnant the idea may seem, if we are to protect ourselves and our institutions. Reliance on anything else is fallacious and ruinous.

I am essentially a recluse who will have very little to do with people wherever he may be. I think that most people only make me nervous – that only by accident, and in extremely small quantities, would I ever be likely to come across people who wouldn’t.

One superlatively important effect of wide reading is the enlargement of vocabulary which always accompanies it.

The earliest English attempts at rhyming probably included words whose agreement is so slight that it deserves the name of mere ‘assonance’ rather than that of actual rhyme.

A dog is a pitiful thing, depending wholly on companionship, and utterly lost except in packs or by the side of his master. Leave him alone, and he does not know what to do except bark and howl and trot about till sheer exhaustion forces him to sleep.

Never should an unfamiliar word be passed over without elucidation, for, with a little conscientious research, we may each day add to our conquests in the realm of philology and become more and more ready for graceful independent expression.

The world is indeed comic, but the joke is on mankind.

The man or nation of high culture may acknowledge to great lengths the restraints imposed by conventions and honour, but beyond a certain point, primitive will or desire cannot be curbed.

I never ask a man what his business is, for it never interests me. What I ask him about are his thoughts and dreams.

If ever I get lost don’t take me down that road, instead show me the way to my home. I cannot afford to escape what I’m designed to learn.

I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you.

As for poverty, no one need be ashamed to admit it, the real shame is in not taking practical measures to escape from it.

Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.

We’re so trendy we can’t even escape ourselves.

The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Now I’ve been free, I know what a dreadful condition slavery is. I have seen hundreds of escaped slaves, but I never saw one who was willing to go back and be a slave.

Because it is so unbelievable, the Truth often escapes being known.