That the play is the tragedy, “Man,” And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.

The ninety and nine are with dreams, content but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.

I was cautious in what I said before the young lady; for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact, there was a certain restless brilliancy about her eyes that half led me to imagine she was not.

No man who ever lived knows any more about the hereafter than you and I.

That man is not truly brave who is afraid either to seem or to be, when it suits him, a coward.

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.