Ritual is the passage way of the soul into the Infinite.

My imagination requires a judicious rein; I am afraid to let it loose, for it carries me sometimes into appalling places beyond the stars and beneath the world.

Savage and formidable Potencies lurking behind the souls of men, not evil perhaps in themselves, yet instinctively hostile to humanity as it exists.

I used to tell strange, wild, improbable tales akin to ghost stories, and discovered a taste for spinning yarns.

The wise are silent, the foolish speak, and the children are thus led astray, for wisdom is not knowledge, it is a realization of the scheme and of one's own part in it.

Mrs. Bittarcy rustled ominously, holding her peace meanwhile. She feared long words she did not understand. Beelzebub lay hid among too many syllables.

(The Man Whom The Trees Loved).

Like many another materialist, that is, he lied cleverly on the basis of insufficient knowledge, because the knowledge supplied seemed to his own particular intelligence inadmissible.

(The Wendigo).

It was so easy to be wise in the explanation of an experience one has not personally witnessed.

(The Wendigo).

It is the little things that pierce and burn and prick for years to come.

No place worth knowing yields itself at sight, and those the least inviting on first view may leave the most haunting pictures upon the walls of memory.

The impulse came to her clairvoyantly, and she obeyed without a sign of hesitation. Deeper comprehension would come to her of the whole awful puzzle. And come it did, yet not in the way she imagined and expected.

My unworldliness, even at 21, was abnormal. Not only had I never smoked tobacco nor touched alcohol of any description, but I had never yet set foot inside a theatre, or gone to a race course I had never seen, nor held a billiard cue, nor touched a card.

It is, of course, extremely interesting to look back across the years questioningly, wonderingly, objectively, without detachments, though seeing objectively does not necessarily imply seeing truthfully.

A strong emotion, especially if experienced for the first time, leaves a vivid memory of the scene where it occurred.

He gave it the benefit of the doubt; he was Scotch.

(The Wendigo).