Anyone who believes in magic is a fool.
I think that in a year I may retire. I cannot take my money with me when I die and I wish to enjoy it, with my family, while I live. I should prefer living in Germany to any other country, though I am an American, and am loyal to my country.
I must fling myself down and writhe; I must strive with every piece of force I possess; I bruise and batter myself against the floor, the walls; I strain and sob and exhaust myself, and begin again, and exhaust myself again; but do I feel pain? Never. How can I feel pain? There is no place for it.
To cause the face to appear in a mass of flame make use of the following: mix together thoroughly petroleum, lard, mutton tallow and quick lime. Distill this over a charcoal fire, and the liquid which results can be burned on the face without harm.
The great day of the Fire-eater – or, should I say, the day of the great Fire-eater – has passed.
How the early priests came into possession of these secrets does not appear, and if there were ever any records of this kind the Church would hardly allow them to become public.
Only one man ever betrayed my confidence, and that only in a minor matter.
Disloyalty in trusted servants is one of the most disheartening things that can happen to a public performer.
In all feats of fire-eating it should be noted that the head is thrown well back, so that the flame may pass out of the open mouth instead of up into the roof, as it would if the head were held naturally.
A magician is only an actor – an actor pretending to be a magician.
It is needless to say that women make the most patient as well as the most dangerous pickpockets.
Pickpockets either work alone or in pairs, or what is called a mob.
The eating of burning brimstone is an entirely fake performance.
The great trouble with magicians is the fact that they believe when they have bought a certain trick or piece of apparatus, and know the method of procedure, that they are full-fledged mystifiers.
It is still an open question, however, as to what extent exposure really injures a performer.
Look at this life – all mystery and magic.
They do tricks even I can’t figure out.
My professional life has been a constant record of disillusion...
I am not an irretrievable skeptic. I am not hopelessly prejudiced. I am perfectly willing to believe, and my mind is wide open; but I have, as yet, to be convinced. I am perfectly willing, but the evidence must be sane and conclusive.
I’m tired of fighting.