By: James Branch Cabell

In Time’s Hour-Glass

By: Arthur Conan Doyle

“He is a primitive cave-man in a lounge suit.”

By: E.M. Forster

“The Machine is stopping, I know it. I know the signs.”

By: John Buchan

He awoke from his illness to find the world incredulous.

By: James Branch Cabell

Cantraps of the Master Philologist

By: E.M. Forster

Progress had come to mean the progress of the Machine.

By: James Branch Cabell

Of Compromises in Cocaigne

By: John Buchan

I sent a bullet through the right eye of the first thing that came on.

By: E.M. Forster

A worm, a long white worm, had crawled out of the shaft.

By: James Branch Cabell

Shortcomings of Prince Jurgen

By: John Buchan

In the cave it was always a dusky twilight.

By: E.M. Forster

“My respirator had flown goodness knows where.”

By: James Branch Cabell

As to a Veil They Broke

By: John Buchan

“What guid can man dae?”

By: E.M. Forster

I said to myself, “Man is the measure.”