“The Wild Hunt is known in all Celtic countries; it is a huntsman with a pack of hounds who is seen or heard to rush through the country. Those who see him are doomed to die. The writer heard the Wild Hunt quite distinctly one night in Wales several years ago, but has not suffered any ill effects from it as yet.”

“The dusky night rides down the sky,
And ushers in the morn;
The hounds all join in glorious cry,
The huntsman winds his horn,
And a-hunting we will go.”

“Somewhere in the gray wood by the river is the huntsman and in the brooming corn and in the castellated press of cities. His work lies all wheres and his hounds tire not. I have seen them in a dream, slaverous and wild and their eyes crazed with ravening for souls in this world. Fly them.”

“I’ve learnt a lot. But it’s kind of like a starving child in Africa who has been hunted by wild animals daily. It’s quite miserable, but you sort of learn survival skills that you can’t learn anywhere else. But would I want to return to such a scenario? No.”

“Those who cannot be aggressive are hunted down while they shiver and hide because the night is dark.”

“In opening and conquering a country great and wild and rich - a country indeed not yet fully known or conquered - we have still to learn more about ourselves and each other.”

“There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.”

“What is the light from yon deep wood flashing —
What the sound on the wild wind borne?
What the dark ranks that are onwards dashing
To the voice of the pealing horn?
Who are they that thundering go? —
It is the Black Hunt of the bold Litzou!”

“They certainly are not great writers, but they speak their country's language and they make themselves heard.”

“He often lying broad awake, and yet
Remaining from the body, and apart
In intellect and power and will, hath heard
Time flowing in the middle of the night,
And all things creeping to a day of doom.”