A.E. Howard
A.E. Howard
civilization mazes customs
Civilization is a network and a maze of precedences and custom.
men animal greed
Animals are neither gods nor fiends, but men in their way without the lust and greed of man.
wind justice soul
He was . . . a strange blending of Puritan and Cavalier, with a touch of the ancient philosopher, and more than a touch of the pagan. . . . A hunger in his soul drove him on and on, an urge to right all wrongs, protect all weaker things. . . . Wayward and restless as the wind, he was consistent in only one respect—he was true to his ideals of justice and right. Such was Solomon Kane.
men oil people
The people among which I lived - and yet live, mainly - made their living from cotton, wheat, cattle, oil, with the usual percentage of business men and professional men.
dog men race
Aye, you white dog, you are like all your race; but to a black man gold can never pay for blood.
sweat forever soul
How can I wear the harness of toil And sweat at the daily round, While in my soul forever The drums of Pictdom sound?
devil way path
I'm not going out of my way looking for devils; but I wouldn't step out of my path to let one go by.
men feet dominance
It was no ape, neither was it a man. It was some shambling horror spawned in the mysterious, nameless jungles of the south, where strange life teemed in the reeking rot without the dominance of man, and drums thundered in temples that had never known the tread of a human foot.
rome peachy
Rome got some peachy pastings when she tried to lick the Irish.
spiritual real believe
I think the real reason so many youngsters are clamoring for freedom of some vague sort, is because of unrest and dissatisfaction with present conditions; I don't believe this machine age gives full satisfaction in a spiritual way, if the term may be allowed.
queens kings cheer
Musings The little poets sing of little things: Hope, cheer, and faith, small queens and puppet kings; Lovers who kissed and then were made as one, And modest flowers waving in the sun. The mighty poets write in blood and tears And agony that, flame-like, bites and sears. They reach their mad blind hands into the night, To plumb abysses dead to human sight; To drag from gulfs where lunacy lies curled, Mad, monstrous nightmare shapes to blast the world. [click on the thumbnail by Jack "King" Kirby]
dream real men
Man can be that which he wishes to be; form and substance, they are but shadows. The mind, the ego, the essence of the god-dream -- that is real, that is immortal.
death ocean eternity
What is death but a traversing of eternities and a crossing of cosmic oceans?
snakes cities world
If I was wealthy I'd never do anything but poke around in ruined cities all over the world - and probably get snake-bit.