While my chosen form of story-writing is obviously a special and perhaps a narrow one, it is none the less a persistent and permanent type of expression, as old as literature itself. There will always be a certain small percentage of persons who feel a burning curiosity about unknown outer space, and a burning desire to escape from the prison-house of the known and the real into those enchanted lands of incredible adventure and infinite possibilities which dreams open up to us, and which things like deep woods, fantastic urban towers, and flaming sunsets momentarily suggest.

Sometimes one feels that it would be merciful to tear down these houses, for they must often dream.

There are horrors beyond life's edge that we do not suspect, and once in a while man's evil prying calls them just within our range.

Almost nobody dances sober, unless they happen to be insane.

With hidden powers of unknown extent apparently at his disposal, Curwen was not a man who could safely be warned to leave town.

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.

All life is only a set of pictures in the brain, among which there is no difference betwixt those born of real things and those born of inward dreamings, and no cause to value the one above the other.