That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die.

If religion were true, its followers would not try to bludgeon their young into an artificial conformity; but would merely insist on their unbending quest for truth, irrespective of artificial backgrounds or practical consequences.

I was nearly unnerved at my proximity to a nameless thing at the bottom of a pit.

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

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

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.

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.