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We don’t know whether they’re going to eat us or elect us for their tribal deities.
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The skies are haunted by that which it were madness to know; and strange abominations pass evermore between earth and moon and athwart the galaxies. Unnamable things have come to us in alien horror and will come again.
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Must beauty blossom, rooted in decay, And night devour its flaming hues alway?
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I was with the first Venusian expedition, under the leadership of Admiral Carfax, in 1977.
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It would seem, from this, that the people of Omanorion had mastered the ultra-civilized art of minding their own business.
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Yet from thy lethal lips and thine alone, Love would I drink, as dew from poison-bloom.
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Lo! I am Beauty's constant thrall, Must ever on her voice await, And follow through the maze of Fate Her luring, strange and mystical.
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All human thought, all science, all religion, is the holding of a candle to the night of the universe.
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Behind each thing a shadow lies; Beauty hath e'er its cost: Within the moonlight-flooded skies How many stars are lost!
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The sand of the desert of Yondo is not as the sand of other deserts; for Yondo lies nearest of all to the world’s rim; and strange winds, blowing from a gulf no astronomer may hope to fathom, have sown its ruinous fields with the grey dust of corroding planets, the black ashes of extinguished suns.
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Only the impossible has any real charm; the possible has been vulgarized by happening too often.
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To destroy wonder and mystery, is to destroy the only elements that make existence tolerable.
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Bow down, I am the emperor of dreams.