Blue, green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent.

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

Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end.

We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight.

There were nameless horrors abroad; and no matter how little one might be able to get at them, one ought tp stand prepared for any sort of action at any time.

I never ask a man what his business is, for it never interests me. What I ask him about are his thoughts and dreams.

Science, already oppressive with its shocking revelations, will perhaps be the ultimate exterminator of our human species - if separate species we be - for its reserve of unguessed horrors could never be borne by mortal brains if loossed upon the world.