I had this story from one who had no business to tell it to me, or to any other.
I write to escape.. To escape poverty.
I got this story from someone who had no business in the telling of it.
Mine own people do not care for me, John Carter; I am too unlike them. It is a sad fate, since I must live my life amongst them.
No fiction is worth reading except for entertainment. If it entertains and is clean, it is good literature, or its kind. If it forms the habit of reading, in people who might not read otherwise, it is the best literature.
I have discovered that the world over, unusual weather prevails at all times of the year.
They say that none of us exists, except in the imagination of his fellows, other than as an intangible, invisible mentality.
Imagination is but another name for super intelligence.
We are between the wild thoat of certainty and the mad zitidar of fact.
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.
Two keen eyes had watched every move of the party from the foliage of a nearby tree. Tarzan had seen the surprise caused by his notice, and while he could understand nothing of the spoken language of these strange people their gestures and facial expressions told him much.
Tarzan must act quickly or his prey would be gone; but Tarzan's life training left so little space between decision and action when an emergency confronted him that there was not even room for the shadow of a thought between.
For months the life of the little band went on much as it had before, except that Tarzan's greater intelligence and his ability as a hunter were the means of providing for them more bountifully than ever before. Most of them, therefore, were more than content with the change in rulers.
No amount of money today could possibly give me the thrill that first 00 check gave me. My first story was entitled, Dejah Thoris, Princess of Mars. Metcalf changed it to Under the Moons of Mars. It was later published in book form as A Princess of Mars.
In Tarzan's clever little mind many thoughts revolved, and back of these was his divine power of reason. If he could catch his fellow apes with his long arm of many grasses, why not Sabor, the lioness?