No Man Can Be Convinced When He

If I Was Wealthy I'd Never Do Anything But Poke Around In Ruined Cities All Over The World - And Probably Get Snake-bit.

While We May Open The Books Of The Past, We May But Grant Flying Glances Of The Future, Through The Mist That Veils It.

The Sea-road Is Good For Wanderers And Landless Men. There Is Quenching Of Thirst On The Grey Paths Of The Winds, And The Flying Clouds To Still The Sting Of Lost Dreams.

What Do I Know Of Cultured Ways, The Gilt, The Craft And The Lie? I, Who Was Born In A Naked Land And Bred In The Open Sky. The Subtle Tongue, The Sophist Guile, They Fail When The Broadswords Sing; Rush In And Die, Dogs—i Was A Man Before I Was A King.

I Never Saw A Man Fight As Conan Fought. He Put His Back To The Courtyard Wall, And Before They Overpowered Him The Dead Men Were Strewn In Heaps Thigh-deep About Him. But At Last They Dragged Him Down, A Hundred Against One.