And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished, for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare.

Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.

The ignorant and the deluded are, I think, in a strange way to be envied. That which is not known of does not trouble us, while an imagined but insubstantial peril does not harm us. To know the truths behind reality is a far greater burden.

But are not the dreams of poets and the tales of travellers notoriously false?

That which we call substance and reality is shadow and illusion, and that which we call shadow and illusion is substance and reality.

It is true that I have sent six bullets through the head of my best friend, and yet I hope to show by this statement that I am not his murderer.

The appeal of the spectrally macabre is generally narrow because it demands from the reader a certain degree of imagination and a capacity for detachment from everyday life.