I am afraid that if you want to go down into history you'll have to do something for it.
Vanity plays lurid tricks with our memory.
... it was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.
His very existence was improbable, inexplicable, and altogether bewildering. He was an insoluble problem. It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain -- why he did not instantly disappear.
Fiction is history, human history, or it is nothing.
They had behind them, to my mind, the terrific suggestiveness of words heard in dreams, of phrases spoken in nightmares.