26 Quotes About Weird-fiction

If there's one thing Robert had learned in three weeks at Lovecraft Middle School, it's that nothing was impossible.

Hello. It is Monday. I live in Sun City. Sun City is a city that is entirely contained inside an enormous concrete building in the shape of a sun. Its rays house our living quarters; its circular centre is where we work and shop. No one has ever been outside of the city; it is generally suspected that the environment outside of the city is uninhabitable.

Predveče smo pojali, spustili se u podrum i u krugu – u kojem je, u središtu, klečao dr Milićević, držeći kamen – prineli na žrtvu ovcu. Prolili smo krv u zdelu, te polili doktora i time ga obredno okupali. Kako se prethodno oslobodio životinjskog nagona u orgi¬jama, nadahnuo rečima apostolâ i smrću žrtve, pa pomazao krvlju, bio je pripremljen za preobražaj.- Iz pripovetke ''Preobražaj

I believe,' Muswell once said, 'that mental isolation is the essence of weird fiction. Isolation when confronted with disease, with madness, with horror and with death. These are the reverberations of the infinity that torments us.("The White Hands")

Cadavers and spirits are human refuse, and they are absurdly difficult to dispose of properly. When someone dies, a small gang of specialists is required to remove and inter the body in such a way that it can always be located precisely at any time while preventing it from ever appearing again.

Such ordeals always strike one with their strangeness, their digression from the normal flow of events, and often provoke a universal protest: "Why me?" Be sure that this is not a question but an outcry. The person who screams it has been instilled with an astonishing suspicion that he, in fact, has been the perfect subject for a very specific "weird," a tailor-made fate, and that a prior engagement, in all its weirdness, was fulfilled at the appointed time and place.

Another time he woke me up in the middle of the night, lifted me off the pale blue sheets, led me outside to the stars and whispered: Look, Annie, look—there is no space for anything but dreaming. I listened, sleepily, wandered back to bed andfound myself wide awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to dream at all

One senses that it is a region of cosmic antiquity, and that man is no more significant here than any other of the insects that crawl in the dust.

I was seven years old the first time my brother tried to kill me.