As the body rolled to the ground Tarzan of the Apes placed his foot upon the neck of his lifelong enemy and, raising his eyes to the full moon, threw back his fierce young head and voiced the wild and terrible cry of his people.

They say that none of us exists, except in the imagination of his fellows, other than as an intangible, invisible mentality.

A warrior may change his metal, but not his heart.

So strong is the power of superstition that even though we know that we have been reverencing a sham, yet still we hesitate to admit the validity of our new-found convictions.

Could it be that there were other things more desirable than cold logic and undefiled brain power?

If I had followed my better judgment always, my life would have been a very dull one.

I knew nothing about the technique of story writing, and now, after eighteen years of writing, I still know nothing about the technique, although with the publication of my new novel, Tarzan and the Lost Empire, there are 31 books on my list.