I Fell In Love With Melancholy

There Was An Iciness, A Sinking, A Sickening Of The Heart - An Unredeemed Dreariness Of Thought Which No Goading Of The Imagination Could Torture Into Aught Of The Sublime

You Will Observe That The Stories Told Are All About Money-seekers, Not About Money-finders.

Scorching My Seared Heart With A Pain, Not Hell Shall Make Me Fear Again.

The Believer Is Happy. The Doubter Is Wise.

By A Route Obscure And Lonely Haunted By Ill Angels Only, Where An Eidolon, Named Night, On A Black Throne Reigns Upright, I Have Reached These Lands But Newly From An Ultimate Dim Thule -- From A Wild, Weird Clime That Lieth, Sublime, Out Of Space, Out Of Time.