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Who is Mary Shelley ?
See also More Weird &Horror  Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
and Poe
  • The Monkey's Paw  by W.W. Jacobs
    "That's the worst of living so far out," bawled Mr. White, with sudden and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway's a bog, and the road's a torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses on the road are let, they think it doesn't matter."
  • Memory  by H.P. Lovecraft
    In the valley of Nis the accursed waning moon shines thinly, tearing a path for its light with feeble horns through the lethal foliage of a great upas-tree.
  • The Tractate Middoth   by M. R. James
    Garrett had a few moments to spare; and, thought he, 'I'll go back to that case and see if I can find the old man. Most likely he could put off using the book for a few days. I dare say the other one doesn't want to keep it for long.'
  • The Striding-Place   by Gertrude Atherton
    The country was being patrolled night and day. A hundred keepers and workmen were beating the woods and poking the bogs on the moors, but as yet not so much as a handkerchief had been found.
  • The Stalls of Barchester Cathedral   by M. R. James
    But how unsearchable are the workings of Providence! The peaceful and retired seclusion amid which the honoured evening of Dr Haynes's life was mellowing to its close was destined to be disturbed
  • Sir Bertrand   A Fragment
    AFTER this adventure, Sir Bertrand turned his steed towards the woulds, hoping to cross these dreary moors before the curfew. But ere he had proceeded half his journey, he was bewildered by the different tracks, and not being able, as far as the eye could reach
  • The Fortunes of Perkin Warbeck   by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
    The principal thing that I should wish to be impressed on my reader's mind is, that whether my hero was or was not an impostor, he was believed to be the true man by his contemporaries. The partial pages of Bacon, of Hall, and Holinshed and others of that date, are replete with proofs of this fact.
  • The Heir of Mondolfo   by Mary Shelley
    In the beautiful and wild country near Sorrento, in the Kingdom of Naples, at the time it was governed by monarchs of the house of Anjou, there lived a territorial noble, whose wealth and power overbalanced that of the neighboring nobles.
  • The Invisible Girl  by Mary Shelley
    She was reading one of those folio romances which have so long been the delight of the enthusiastic and young; her mandoline was at her feet -- her parroquet perched on a huge mirror near her; the arrangement of furniture and hangings gave token of a luxurious dwelling, and her attire also evidently that of home and privacy
  • Headlong Hall   by Thomas Love Peacock
    This name may appear at first sight not to be truly Cambrian, like those of the Rices, and Prices, and Morgans, and Owens, and Williamses, and Evanses, and Parrys, and Joneses; but, nevertheless
  • Falkner; A Novel   by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
    Treby was almost unknown; yet, whoever visited it might well prefer its sequestered beauties to many more renowned competitors. Situated in the depths of a little bay, it was sheltered on all sides by the cliffs. Just behind the hamlet the cliff made a break
  • The Evil Eye   by Mary Shelley
    Who in the mutilated savage could recognise the handsomest amongst the Arnaoots? His habits kept pace with his change of physiognomy
  • Death In Silver   by Kenneth Robeson
    These signs should have told an experienced observer that the man was worried and scared. But there were no experienced observers among the stenographers and clerks in the office of Seven Seas, so the glances they gave the tall man were merely the boot-licking smiles of employees who had about as much spirit as rabbits.
  • Brand Of The Werewolf   by Kenneth Robeson
    The train was moving. With a smoothness that came of long practice, Wilkie swung aboard. He headed for the cars which held drawing-rooms. He walked the swaying aisles with the proficiency of a sailor on a rolling deck of a storm-tossed ship.
  • The Book of the Damned   by Charles Hoy Fort
    The little harlots will caper, and freaks will distract attention, and the clowns will break the rhythm of the whole with their buffooneries -- but the solidity of the procession as a whole: the impressiveness of things that pass and pass and pass, and keep on and keep on and keep on coming.
  • Mr. Gray's Strange Story  by Louisa Murray
    At that moment a shadow, as if from the wild flight of a bird, passed before the window at which I sat, and swift as an arrow from a bow Celia darted out of the verandah. Till then I had seen and heard all that passed in a sort of stupor
  • Moxon's Master  by Ambrose Bierce
    For several weeks I had been observing in him a growing habit of delay in answering even the most trivial of commonplace questions. His air, however, was that of preoccupation rather than deliberation: one might have said that he had 'something on his mind.'
  • The Mortal Immortal  by Mary Shelly
    Am I, then, immortal? This is a question which I have asked myself, by day and night, for now three hundred and three years, and yet cannot answer it. I detected a gray hair amidst my brown locks this very day-- that surely signifies decay. Yet it may have remained concealed there for three hundred years--for some persons have become entirely white headed before twenty years of age.
  • The Mourner  by Mary Shelly
    Our boat has floated long on the broad expanse; now let it approach the umbrageous bank. The green tresses of the graceful willow dip into the waters, which are checked by them into a ripple.
  • The Man Whom the Trees Loved  By Algernon Blackwood
    He knew why in an oak forest, for instance, each individual was utterly distinct from its fellows, and why no two beeches in the whole world were alike. People asked him down to paint a favourite lime or silver birch, for he caught the individuality of a tree as some catch the individuality of a horse.
  • Luella Miller  by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
    She had been dead for years, yet there were those in the village who, in spite of the clearer light which comes on a vantage-point from a long-past danger, half believed in the tale which they had heard from their childhood.
  • A Collection of Lovecraft  by H.P. Lovecraft
    High up, crowning the grassy summit of a swelling mount whose sides are wooded near the base with the gnarled trees of the primeval forest stands the old chateau of my ancestors.
  • The Horror Of The Heights by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
    The Joyce-Armstrong Fragment was found in the field which is called Lower Haycock, laying one mile to the westward of the village of Withyham, upon the Kent and Sussex Border.
  • The Ghost Whistle  by Eugene K. Jones
    Uncle Bob Holman, habitat the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, feared neither God nor the devil. His profession was moonshining, his chief recreation taking potshots at his feudal enemies
  • Captain Gault  by William Hope Hodgson
    "I belong to the Nameless Ones, we call them. They are a brotherhood also, an' have live for two t'ousand years.
  • Carnacki The Ghost Finder  by Eugene K. Jones
    "I examined the seals on all the doors, as I went along, and found them right; but when I got to the Grey Room, the seal was broken
  • Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family  by H.P. Lovecraft
    Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
  • The Dead and the Countess  by Gertrude Atherton
    It was an old cemetery, and they had been long dead. Those who died nowadays were put in the new burying-place on the hill, close to the Bois d'Amour and within sound of the bells that called the living to mass. But the little church where the mass was celebrated stood faithfully beside the older dead; a new church
  • The Doom That Came to Sarnath  by H.P. Lovecraft
    There is in the land of Mnar a vast still lake that is fed by no stream, and out of which no stream flows. Ten thousand years ago there stood by its shore the mighty city of Sarnath, but Sarnath stands there no more.
  • The Deserted House by Ernest Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann
    all agreed in the belief that the actual facts of life are often far more wonderful than the invention of even the liveliest imagination can be.
  • The Derelict  by William Hope Hodgson
    "The material," he said with conviction, "is inevitably the medium of expression of the life-force--the fulcrum, as it were; lacking which it is unable to exert itself
  • Dagon  by H.P. Lovecraft
    The great war was then at its very beginning, and the ocean forces of the Hun had not completely sunk to their later degradation; so that our vessel was made a legitimate prize
  • The Damned Thing  by Ambrose G. Bierce
    By the light of a tallow candle which had been placed on one end of a rough table a man was reading something written in a book. It was an old account book, greatly worn; and the writing was not, apparently, very legible, for the man sometimes held the page close to the flame of the candle to get a stronger light on it. The shadow of the book would then throw into obscurity a half of the rooms, darkening a number of faces and figures; for besides the reader, eight other men were present.
  • The Cremona Violin   By Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann
    It was at this stage of the proceedings that I came to H----; and it was highly amusing to see how hundreds of people stood round about the garden and raised a loud shout whenever the stones flew out and a new window appeared where nobody had for a moment expected it.
  • The Crawling Chaos by H.P. Lovecraft and E. Berkeley
    Presently I realised that the direct symbol and excitant of my fear was the hideous pounding whose incessant reverberations throbbed maddeningly against my exhausted brain. It seemed to come from a point outside and below the edifice in which I stood, and to associate itself with the most terrifying mental images.
  • The Cold Embrace  by Mary E. Braddon
    He was an orphan, under the guardianship of his dead father's brother, his uncle Wilhelm, in whose house he had been brought up from a little child; and she who loved him was his cousin--his cousin Gertrude, whom he swore he loved in return.
  • The Copy-Cat & Other Stories  by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
    Amelia was an odd little girl -- that is, everybody called her odd. She was that rather unusual creature, a child with a definite ideal; and that ideal was Lily Jennings. However, nobody knew that.
  • Carmilla  by J. Sheridan LeFanu
    in the direction of General Spielsdorf's schloss, a ruined village, with its quaint little church, now roofless, in the aisle of which are the mouldering tombs of the proud family of Karnstein, now extinct, who once owned the equally desolate chateau which, in the thick of the forest, overlooks the silent ruins of the town.
  • The Cats of Ulthar  by Howard Phillips Lovecraft
    It is said that in Ulthar, which lies beyond the river Skai, no man may kill a cat; and this I can verily believe as I gaze upon him who sitteth purring before the fire. For the cat is cryptic, and close to strange things which men cannot see. He is the soul of antique Aegyptus, and bearer of tales from forgotten cities in Meroe and Ophir.
  • The Canterville Ghost   by Oscar Wilde
    I reckon that if there were such a thing as a ghost in Europe, we'd have it at home in a very short time in one of our public museums, or on the road as a show."
  • Bunner Sisters  by Edith Wharton
    In the days when New York's traffic moved at the pace of the drooping horse-car, when society applauded Christine Nilsson at the Academy of Music and basked in the sunsets of the Hudson River School on the walls of the National Academy of Design, an inconspicuous shop with a single show-window was intimately and favourably known to the feminine population of the quarter bordering on Stuyvesant Square.
  • The Blindman's World  by Edward Bellamy
    Most astronomers have a specialty, and mine was the study of the planet Mars, our nearest neighbor but one in the Sun's little family. When no important celestial phenomena in other quarters demanded attention, it was on the ruddy disc of Mars that my telescope was oftenest focused.
  • The Beast in the Cave  by H.P. Lovecraft
    I was lost, completely, hopelessly lost in the vast and labyrinthine recess of the Mammoth Cave. Turn as I might, In no direction could my straining vision seize on any object capable of serving as a guidepost to set me on the outward path.
  • The Hall Bedroom   by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
    I am a person of considerable ingenuity, and have inventive power, and much enterprise when the occasion presses. I advertised in a very original manner, although that actually took my last penny
  • The Angel at the Grave  by Edith Wharton
    The village street on which Paulina Anson's youth looked out led to all the capitals of Europe; and over the roads of intercommunication unseen caravans bore back to the elm-shaded House the tribute of an admiring world.
  • The Alchemist
    Thus isolated, and thrown upon my own resources, I spent the hours of my childhood in poring over the ancient tomes that filled the shadow-haunted library of the chateau, and in roaming without aim or purpose through the perpetual dust of the spectral wood that clothes the side of the hill near its foot.
See also More Weird &Horror  Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
and Poe
  • The Terrible Old Man  by H.P. Lovecraft
    This old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession of Messrs. Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery.
  • The Sorceress of the Strand  by L.T. Meade and Robert Eustace
    "As to the laboratory," I said, with a smile, "you must come and see it. For the rest I am unmarried. Are you?"
  • The Statement of Randolph Carter  by H.P. Lovecraft
    As I have said before, the weird studies of Harley Warren were well known to me, and to some extent shared by me. Of his vast collection of strange, rare books on forbidden subjects I have read all that are written in the languages of which I am master; but these are few as compared with those in languages I cannot understand.
See also More Weird &Horror  Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
and Poe

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