Toil Without Song Is Like A Weary

I Have Seen The Dark Universe Yawning Where The Black Planets Roll Without Aim, Where They Roll In Their Horror Unheeded, Without Knowledge, Or Lustre, Or Name.

Children Will Always Be Afraid Of The Dark, And Men With Minds Sensitive To Hereditary Impulse Will Always Tremble At The Thought Of The Hidden And Fathomless Worlds Of Strange Life Which May Pulsate In The Gulfs Beyond The Stars, Or Press Hideously Upon Our Own Globe In Unholy Dimensions Which Only The Dead And The Moonstruck Can Glimpse.

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.

Ultimate Horror Often Paralyses Memory In A Merciful Way.

Life Is A Hideous Thing, And From The Background Behind What We Know Of It Peer Daemoniacal Hints Of Truth Which Make It Sometimes A Thousandfold More Hideous.