... that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws; till out of corruption horrid life springs, and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth’s pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl.
-H.P. Lovecraft
2 comments:
"The Festival".
A favorite, I can so easily see the village of Kingsport, the graveyard, and hear the creaking of the gibbet.
I've been a fan of Lovecraft since the late 70's, awesome stuff.
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