nothing save a flight of damp stone steps leading downward
since detailed speech would but confirm
temperamentally unfitted for the formal studies and social recreations of my acquaintances
lacking the fellowship of the living, he inevitably draws upon the companionship of things that are not, or are no longer, living.
fastened ajar in a queerly sinister
No one recalled their identity, and they were soon forgotten by the many.
“Do not do this thing. I was like you once, and I did it. Now I am like—this.”
There’s poetry in this sort of thing, you know—or perhaps you don’t know, but it’s all the same.
He knew deeper vices through books, and he now longed to know them at first hand.
Then suddenly I saw it. With only a slight churning to mark its rise to the surface, the thing slid into view above the dark waters. Vast, Polyphemus-like, and loathsome, it darted like a stupendous monster of nightmares to the monolith, about which it flung its gigantic scaly arms, the while it bowed its hideous head and gave vent to certain measured sounds.
