Quote

Most of my monsters fail altogether to satisfy my sense of the cosmic - the abnormally chromatic entity in The Colour Out of Space being the only one of the lot which I take any pride in.

H. P. Lovecraft

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H. P. Lovecraft
Age: 46 †
Born: 1890
Born: August 20
Died: 1937
Died: March 15
Author
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Providence
Rhode Island
Howard Phillips Lovecraft
H.P. Lovecraft
Lovecraft
Ward Phillips
HP Lovecraft
Richard Raleigh
Edgar Softly
Augustus T. Swift
Lewis Theobald
Jr.
Albert Frederick Willie
Humphrey Littlewit
Monsters
Fail
Chromatic
Pride
Abnormally
Satisfy
Failing
Altogether
Space
Entity
Sense
Cosmic
Take
Colour

More quotes by H. P. Lovecraft

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We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight.
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Two widely dissimilar races, whether equal or not, cannot peaceably coexist in the same territory until they are either uniformly mongrelised or cast in folkways of permanent and traditional personal aloofness.
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Memories and possibilities are even more hideous than realities.
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Life is not the unique property of Earth. Nor is life in the shape of human beings. Life takes many forms on other planets and far stars, forms that would seem bizarre to humans, as human life is bizarre to other life-forms.
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The basis of all true cosmic horror is violation of the order of nature, and the profoundest violations are always the least concrete and describable.
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It is true that I have sent six bullets through the head of my best friend, and yet I hope to show by this statement that I am not his murderer.
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The unknown ... became for our primitive forefathers a terrible and omnipotent source of boons and calamities visited upon mankind for cryptic and wholly extra-terrestrial reasons, and thus clearly belonging to spheres of existence whereof we know nothing and wherein we have no part.
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I felt myself on the edge of the world peering over the rim into a fathomless chaos of eternal night.
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With hidden powers of unknown extent apparently at his disposal, Curwen was not a man who could safely be warned to leave town.
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Wise men have interpreted dreams, and the gods have laughed.
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Good and evil and beauty and ugliness are only ornamental fruits of perspective, whose sole value lies in their linkage to what chance made our fathers think and feel, and whose finer details are different for every race and culture.
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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.
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Something like fear chilled me as I sat there in the small hours alone-I say alone, for one who sits by a sleeper is indeed alone perhaps more alone than he can realise.
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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.
H. P. Lovecraft
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But are not the dreams of poets and the tales of travellers notoriously false?
H. P. Lovecraft
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It is the night-black Massachusetts legendry which packs the really macabre kick. Here is material for a really profound study in group-neuroticism for certainly, no one can deny the existence of a profoundly morbid streak in the Puritan imagination.
H. P. Lovecraft
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The phenomenon of dreaming ... helped to build up the notion of an unreal or spiritual world and in general, all the conditions of savage dawn-life so strongly conduced toward a feeling of the supernatural, that we need not wonder at the thoroughness with which man's very hereditary essence has become saturated with religion and superstition.
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If I could create an ideal world, it would be an England with the fire of the Elizabethans, the correct taste of the Georgians, and the refinement and pure ideals of the Victorians.
H. P. Lovecraft
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There be those who say that things and places have souls, and there be those who say they have not I dare not say, myself, but I will tell of The Street.
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And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished, for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare.
H. P. Lovecraft