I got this story from someone who had no business in the telling of it.

It is a characteristic of the weak and criminal to attribute to others the misfortunes that are the result of their own wickedness.

Yes, I was a fool, but I was in love, and though I was suffering the greatest misery I had ever known I would not have had it otherwise for all the riches of Barsoom. Such is love, and such are lovers wherever love is known.

I do not think that I am ever overconfident. I am merely wholly confident, and I maintain that there is all the difference in the world there.

I do not believe that I am made of the stuff which constitutes heroes, because, in all of the hundreds of instances that my voluntary acts have placed me face to face with death, I cannot recall a single one where any alternative step to that I took occurred to me until many hours later.

I have discovered that the world over, unusual weather prevails at all times of the year.

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.