Robert E. Howard
Robert E. Howard
Robert Ervin Howardwas an American author who wrote pulp fiction in a diverse range of genres. He is well known for his character Conan the Barbarian and is regarded as the father of the sword and sorcery subgenre...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth22 January 1906
CountryUnited States of America
dream real yesterday
I have gone into yesterday and tomorrow and both were as real as today -- which is like the dreams of ghosts!
writing texas order
One objection I have heard voiced to works of this kind—dealing with Texas—is the amount of gore spilled across the pages. It can not be otherwise. In order to write a realistic and true history of any part of the Southwest, one must narrate such things, even at the risk of monotony.
horse soul desire
My body seems a mere encumbrance to me; an imbecillic wagon, hitched to the horse of desire, which is the soul.
effort littles enough
I have accomplished little enough, but such as it is, it is the result of my own efforts.
writing men ideas
But the idea of a man making his living by writing seemed, in that hardy environment, so fantastic that even today I am sometimes myself assailed by a feeling of unreality.
environment spite
I became a writer in spite of my environments.
life dream ghost
Life is but a web spun of ghosts and dreams and illusions.
dark lions
It is better to go in the dark when the road must pass a lion and there is no other road.
kings ocean men
There comes, even to kings, the time of great weariness. Then the gold of the throne is brass, the silk of the palace becomes drab. The gems in the diadem and upon the fingers of the women sparkle drearily like the ice of white seas; the speech of men is as the empty rattle of a jester's bell and the feel comes of things unreal; even the sun is copper in the sky and the breath of the green ocean is no longer fresh.
civilization evil natural
Civilization is a natural and inevitable consequence - whether good or evil I am not prepared to state.
men doors barren
What shall a man say when a friend has vanished behind the doors of Death? A mere tangle of barren words, only words.
moving insanity brain
The poem you sent me was as fiery and virile as anything you've ever written - or anybody else, for that matter. Especially the second part went to my brain like the flaming liquor of insanity. No one else besides Jack London has the power to move me just that way.
real hate character
My characters are more like men than these real men are, see. They're rough and rude, they got hands and they got bellies. They hate and they lust; break the skin of civilization and you find the ape, roaring and red-handed.
disease way this-generation
Youngsters of this generation seem not quite so hazardous except in the way of mechanical speed, bad liquor and venereal diseases.