The Complete Fiction

by H.P. Lovecraft

When I drew nigh the nameless city I knew it was accursed.

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

I was quite unbalanced with that instinct for the strange and the unknown which had made me a wanderer upon earth and a haunter of far, ancient, and forbidden places.

The unreveberate blackness of the abyss.”

where the bobbing lanthorns made eldritch drunken constellations.

The trees grew too thickly, and their trunks were too big for any healthy New England wood. There was too much silence in the dim alleys between them, and the floor was too soft with the dank moss and mattings of infinite years of decay.

Salvator Rosa;