Final comment: you take this with a grain of salt or a shovelful of earth, as shadow or substance, we leave it up to you. And for any further research, check under 'G' for 'ghost' in the Twilight Zone.

Normally, the old man would be correct: this would be the end of the story. We've had the traditional shoot-out on the street and the badman will soon be dead. But some men of legend and folk tale have been known to continue having their way even after death. The outlaw and killer Pinto Sykes was such a person, and…

Ramos Clemente, a would-be god in dungarees, strangled by an illusion, that will-o'-the-wisp mirage that dangles from the sky in front of the eyes of all ambitious men, all tyrants - and any resemblance to tyrants living or dead is hardly coincidental, whether it be here or in the Twilight Zone.

This is the face of Ramos Clemente, a year ago a beardless, nameless worker of the dirt who plodded behind a mule, furrowing someone else's land. And he looked up at a hot Central American sun and he pledged the impossible. He made a vow that he would lead an avenging army against the tyranny that put the ache in his…

Mr. Jesse Cardiff, who became a legend by beating one, but who has found out, after his funeral, that being the best of anything carries with it a special obligation to keep on proving it.
Mr. Fats Brown, on the other hand, having relinquished the champion's mantle . . . has gone fishing.

Jesse Cardiff, pool shark. The best on Randolph Street, who will soon learn that trying to be the best at anything carries its own special risks in or out . . . of the Twilight Zone.

Incident on a dirt road during the month of April, the year 1865. As we've already pointed out, it's a road that won't be found on a map, but it's one of many that lead in and out of the Twilight Zone.

This road is the afterwards of the Civil War. It began at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, and ended at a place called Appomattox. It's littered with the residue of broken battles and shattered dreams.
In just a moment, you will enter a strange province that knows neither North nor South, a place we call the Twilight Zone.

No moral, no message, no prophetic tract, just a simple statement of fact: for civilization to survive, the human race has to remain civilized. Tonight's very small exercise in logic from the Twilight Zone.

What you are about to watch is a nightmare. It is not meant to be prophetic, it need not happen, it's the fervent and urgent prayer of all men of good will that it never shall happen. But in this place, in this moment, it does happen. This is the Twilight Zone.

Picture of a man with an Achilles's heel, a mystery that landed in his life and then turned into a heavy weight, dragged across the years to ultimately take the form of an illusion. Now, that's the clinical answer that they may put on the tag as they take him away. But if you choose to think that the explanation has…

This object, should any of you have lived underground for the better part of your lives and never had occasion to look toward the sky, is an airplane, its official designation a DC-3. We offer this rather obvious comment because this particular airplane, the one you're looking at, is a freak.

This has been a love story, about two lonely people who found each other… in the Twilight Zone.

This is a jungle, a monument built by nature honoring disuse, commemorating a few years of nature being left to its own devices. But it's another kind of jungle, the kind that comes in the aftermath of man's battles against himself. Hardly an important battle, not a Gettysburg or a Marne or an Iwo Jima. More like one…

Probably genetic - my father and grandfather also died of heart problems in their 50s. Of course, it didn't help that I had open-heart surgery in 1975.

I also couldn't explain to that young lady why he would only have a limp after going back to his childhood. It makes sense but I couldn't find the words to explain it.

Yo.

"A Stop at Willoughby" was my favourite, if anyone's curious.

The chancellor, the late chancellor, was only partly correct. He *was* obsolete, but so is the State, the entity he worshipped. Any state, any entity, any ideology that fails to recognize the worth, the dignity, the rights of man, that state is obsolete. A case to be filed under "M" for Mankind . . . in the Twilight…

The chancellor, the late chancellor, was only partly correct. He *was* obsolete, but so is the State, the entity he worshipped. Any state, any entity, any ideology that fails to recognize the worth, the dignity, the rights of man, that state is obsolete. A case to be filed under "M" for Mankind . . . in the Twilight…