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- Libros en formato PDF -
 At
the Mountains of Madness
I AM forced
into speech because men of science have refused
to follow my advice without knowing why. It is
altogether against my will that I tell my
reasons for opposing this contemplated invasion
of the antarctic—with its vast fossil hunt and
its wholesale boring and melting of the ancient
ice caps. And I am the more reluctant because my
warning may be in vain.
Doubt of the real facts, as I must reveal them,
is inevitable; yet, if I suppressed what will
seem extravagant and incredible, there would be
nothing left. The hitherto withheld photographs,
both ordinary and aerial, will count in my
favor, for they are damnably vivid and graphic.
Still, they will be doubted because of the great
lengths to which clever fakery can be carried.
The ink drawings, of course, will be jeered at
as obvious impostures, notwithstanding a
strangeness of technique which art experts ought
to remark and puzzle over...
  The
Call of Cthulhu
The most merciful thing in the world, I
think, is the inability of the human mind to
correlate all its contents. We live on a placid
island of ignorance in the midst of black seas
of infinity, and it was not meant that we should
voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its
own direction, have hitherto harmed us little;
but some day the piecing together of dissociated
knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of
reality, and of our frightful position therein,
that we shall either go mad from the revelation
or flee from the light into the peace and safety
of a new dark age.
Theosophists have guessed at the awesome
grandeur of the cosmic cycle wherein our world
and human race form transient incidents. They
have hinted at strange survivals in terms which
would freeze the blood if not masked by a bland
optimism. But it is not from them that there
came the single glimpse of forbidden eons which
chills me when I think of it and maddens me when
I dream of it. That glimpse, like all dread
glimpses of truth, flashed out from an
accidental piecing together of separated things—in
this case an old newspaper item and the notes of
a dead professor. I hope that no one else will
accomplish this piecing out; certainly, if I
live, I shall never knowingly supply a link in
so hideous a chain. I think that the professor,
too intended to keep silent regarding the part
he knew, and that he would have destroyed his
notes had not sudden death seized him...
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