the daemoniac rattle and wheeze of a blasphemous organ…

“Damn it, it wasn’t quite fresh enough!”

— H.P. Lovecraft

“What we heard was not the fabulous note of any buried blasphemy of elder earth from whose supernal toughness an age-denied polar sun had…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“Our apprehensions were over what we might find, or fail to find, at the end of our journey; for silence continued to answer all…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“Heaven knows where I'll end up - it's a safe bet I'll never be at the top of anything! Nor do I particularly care…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“On many occasions the curious atmospheric effects enchanted me vastly; these including a strikingly vivid mirage - the first I had ever seen -…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“The vast marble dome of the State House stood out in massive silhouette, its crowning statue haloed fantastically by a break in one of…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“By noon Carter reached the jasper terraces of Kiran which slope down to the river's edge and bear that temple of loveliness wherein the…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“It’s hard to have done all one’s growing up since 33 — but that’s a damn sight better than not growing up at all.”

— H.P. Lovecraft

“Calm, lasting beauty comes only in dream, and this solace the world had thrown away when in its worship of the real it threw…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“the trees would die before the poison was out of the soil.”

— H.P. Lovecraft

“many pairs of legs and with two great bat-like wings in the middle of the back. They sometimes walked on all their legs, and…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“One can trace the relics of this former happiness in the trim shapes of the buildings, the occasional graceful churches, and the evidences of…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“a new chill from afar out whither the condor had flown, as if my flesh had caught a horror before my eyes had seen…

— H.P. Lovecraft

“Fear best lends itself to the creation of Nature-defying illusions.”

— H.P. Lovecraft

“The Lurking Fear: Shrieking, slithering, torrential shadows of red viscous madness chasing one another through endless, ensanguined condors of purple fulgurous sky... formless phantasms…

— H.P. Lovecraft