“Into a patch of moonlight passed the figure of a young girl, looked at them as though about to stop yet thinking better of it, smiled softly, and moved on out of sight into the surrounding darkness. The moon just caught her eyes and teeth, so that they shone; the rest of her body stood in shadow; the effect was striking — almost as though head and shoulders hung alone in mid air, watching them with this shining smile, then fading away.”—Algernon Blackwood (The Singular Death of Morton)

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“Start not—nor deem my spirit fled:

   In me behold the only skull

From which, unlike a living head,

   Whatever flows is never dull.

I lived, I loved, I quaff’d, like thee:

   I died: let earth my bones resign;

Fill up—thou canst not injure me;

   The worm hath fouler lips than thine.”–Lord Byron (Lines Inscribed Upon a Cup Formed from a Skull)

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“Black loom the crags of the uplands behind me;

Dark are the sands of the far-stretching shore.

Dim are the pathways and rocks that remind me

Sadly of years in the lost nevermore.

Soft laps the ocean on wave-polish’d boulder;

Sweet is the sound and familiar to me.

Here, with her head gently bent to my shoulder,

Walk’d I with Unda, the Bride of the Sea.”— H.P. Lovecraft  (Unda, or The Bride of the Sea)

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“Be silent in that solitude,

   Which is not loneliness—for then

The spirits of the dead who stood

   In life before thee are again

In death around thee—and their will

Shall overshadow thee: be still.”— Edgar Allan Poe (Spirits of the Dead)

“I don’t think you were wise to do that,” he said reflectively. “I’ve heard it said that the Wood Gods are rather horrible to those who molest them.”

     “Horrible perhaps to those that believe in them, but you see I don’t,” retorted Sylvia.

— Saki (The Music on the Hill)

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“Rip and claw flesh and hair,
Gnaw the bones, lap the blood without care,
Moonlight in the cold dark gloom,
Illuminates the black stones of tombs,
Down in the hollow, night winds howl,
Stalk bestial in darkness with the owl,—Jeffrey LeBlanc (Cry of the Werewolf)

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“I stooped, raised the dagger, then paused, looked up. The moon hovered close to her zenith. If I slew the thing as a man its frightful spirit would haunt me forever.” — Robert E. Howard (In the Forest of Villefere) #halloween #weirdtales #werewolf #robertehoward #hplovecraft #cmeddyjr #ralphallanlang #thesilverknife #pirateghost#werewolfbook #werewolfbynight #wolfman #wolf #hauntedhouse #rattleofbones #wolfman […]

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“He spake in wonder, not in fear:

“How walks a man who died?

“Friend of old times, what do ye here,

“Long fallen at my side?”

“Rise up, rise up,” Sir Richard said,

“The hounds of doom are free;

“The slayers come to take your head

“To hang on the ju-ju tree.”— Robert E. Howard (The Return of Sir Richard Grenville)

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