The World Is Indeed Comic, But The

Religion Struck Me So Vague A Thing At Best, That I Could Perceive No Advantage Of Any One System Over Any Other.

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 Every-day Life. Relatively Few Are Free Enough From The Spell Of The Daily Routine To Respond To Rappings From Outside, And Tales Of Ordinary Feelings And Events, Or Of Common Sentimental Distortions Of Such Feelings And Events, Will Always Take First Place In The Taste Of The Majority; Rightly, Perhaps, Since Of Course These Ordinary Matters Make Up The Greater Part Of Human Experience.

In London There Is A Man Who Screams When The Church Bells Ring.

I Fear My Enthusiasm Flags When Real Work Is Demanded Of Me.

Through The Ghoul-guarded Gateways Of Slumber, Past The Wan-mooned Abysses Of Night, I Have Lived O'er My Lives Without Number, I Have Sounded All Things With My Sight.