I was a shadow among shadows brooding over the fate of other shadows that I alone strove to summon up out of the all-pervading dusk.

I am not nearly so interested in what monkey man was derived from as I am in what kind of monkey he is to become.

In the desert, an old monk had once advised a traveler, the voices of God and the Devil are scarcely distinguishable.

The plan is not what you think.

Every man contains within himself a ghost continent.

The iron did not remember the blood it had once moved within, the phosphorous had forgot the savage brain.

The creative element in the mind of man . . . emerges in as mysterious a fashion as those elementary particles which leap into momentary existence in great cyclotrons, only to vanish again like infinitesimal ghosts.