I neither knew nor cared whether my experience was insanity, dreaming, or magic; but was determined to gaze on brilliance and gaiety at any cost.

— H.P. Lovecraft

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

— H.P. Lovecraft

In his house at R’lye dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

— H.P. Lovecraft

In search of Truth the hopeful zealot goes, But all the sadder tums, the more he knows!

— H.P. Lovecraft

I passed under an arch out of that region of slabs and columns, and wandered through the open country; sometimes following the visible road, but sometimes leaving it curiously to tread across meadows where only occasional ruins bespoke the ancient presence of a forgotten road.

— H.P. Lovecraft

I shall never be very merry or very sad, for I am more prone to analyze than to feel.

— H.P. Lovecraft

It cannot be described, this awesome chain of events that depopulated the whole Earth; the range is too tremendous for any to picture of encompass. Of the people of Earth's unfortunate ages, billions of years before, only a few prophets and madman could have conceived that which was to come - could have grasped visions of the still, dead lands, and long-empty sea-beds. The rest would have doubted... doubted alike the shadow of change upon the planet and the shadow of doom upon the race. For man has always thought himself the immortal master of natural things...

— H.P. Lovecraft

It is good to be a cynic — it is better to be a contented cat — and it is best not to exist at all.

— H.P. Lovecraft

It is no longer necessary to preach sonorously of the sinful and deleterious effect of liquor on the human mind and body; the essential evil is recognized scientifically, and only the sophistry of conscious immorality remains to be combated. Brewers and distillers still strive clumsily to delude the public by the transparent misstatements of their advertisements, and periodicals of easy conscience still permit these advertisements to disgrace their pages; but the end of such pernicious pretension is not remote. The drinker of yesterday flaunted his voice before all without shame; the average drinker of today must needs resort to excuses.

— H.P. Lovecraft

It is said that in Altar, which lies beyond the river Ski, no man may kill a cat; and this I can verily believe as I gaze upon him who sitter purring before the fire. For the cat is cryptic, and close to strange things which men cannot see. He is the soul of antique Egypt, and bearer of tales from forgotten cities in Mere and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungle’s lords, and heir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, and he speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembers that which she hath forgotten.

— H.P. Lovecraft