There be those who say that things and places have souls, and there be those who say they have not; I dare not say, myself, but I will tell of The Street.

It is easy to remove the mind from harping on the lost illusion of immortality. The disciplined intellect fears nothing and craves no sugar-plum at the day's end, but is content to accept life and serve society as best it may. Personally I would not care for immortality in the least. There is nothing better than oblivion, since in oblivion there is no wish unfulfilled. We had it before we were born, yet did not complain. Shall we whine because we know it will return? It is Elysium enough for me, at any rate.

No new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the commonplace.

Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth.

Ultimate horror often paralyses memory in a merciful way.

The process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination.

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