A hound it was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived than that dark form and savage face which broke upon us out of the wall of fog.
A hound it was, an enormous ...
Quotes from the same author
It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.
Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself, but talent instantly recognizes genius.
Whenever you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
It is, I admit, mere imagination; but how often is imagination the mother of truth?
Skill is fine, and genius is splendid, but the right contacts are more valuable than either.