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- Говард Лавкрафт
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- Стр. 1/3
Hypnosis
May
the
merciful
gods
,
if
indeed
there
be
such
,
guard
those
hours
when
no
power
of
the
will
,
or
drug
that
the
cunning
of
man
devises
,
can
keep
me
from
the
chasm
of
sleep
.
Death
is
merciful
,
for
there
is
no
return
therefrom
,
but
with
him
who
has
come
back
out
of
the
nethermost
chambers
of
night
,
haggard
and
knowing
,
peace
rests
nevermore
.
Fool
that
I
was
to
plunge
with
such
unsanctioned
frensy
into
mysteries
no
man
was
meant
to
penetrate
;
fool
or
god
that
he
was
--
my
only
friend
,
who
led
me
and
went
before
me
,
and
who
in
the
end
passed
into
terrors
which
may
yet
be
mine
!
We
met
,
I
recall
,
in
a
railway
station
,
where
he
was
the
center
of
a
crowd
of
the
vulgarly
curious
.
He
was
unconscious
,
having
fallen
in
a
kind
of
convulsion
which
imparted
to
his
slight
black-clad
body
a
strange
rigidity
.
I
think
he
was
then
approaching
forty
years
of
age
,
for
there
were
deep
lines
in
the
face
,
wan
and
hollow-cheeked
,
but
oval
and
actually
beautiful
;
and
touches
of
gray
in
the
thick
,
waving
hair
and
small
full
beard
which
had
once
been
of
the
deepest
raven
black
.
His
brow
was
white
as
the
marble
of
Pentelicus
,
and
of
a
height
and
breadth
almost
god-like
.
I
said
to
myself
,
with
all
the
ardor
of
a
sculptor
,
that
this
man
was
a
faun
's
statue
out
of
antique
Hellas
,
dug
from
a
temple
's
ruins
and
brought
somehow
to
life
in
our
stifling
age
only
to
feel
the
chill
and
pressure
of
devastating
years
.
And
when
he
opened
his
immense
,
sunken
,
and
wildly
luminous
black
eyes
I
knew
he
would
be
thenceforth
my
only
friend
--
the
only
friend
of
one
who
had
never
possessed
a
friend
before
--
for
I
saw
that
such
eyes
must
have
looked
fully
upon
the
grandeur
and
the
terror
of
realms
beyond
normal
consciousness
and
reality
;
realms
which
I
had
cherished
in
fancy
,
but
vainly
sought
.
So
as
I
drove
the
crowd
away
I
told
him
he
must
come
home
with
me
and
be
my
teacher
and
leader
in
unfathomed
mysteries
,
and
he
assented
without
speaking
a
word
.
Afterward
I
found
that
his
voice
was
music
--
the
music
of
deep
viols
and
of
crystalline
spheres
.
We
talked
often
in
the
night
,
and
in
the
day
,
when
I
chiseled
busts
of
him
and
carved
miniature
heads
in
ivory
to
immortalize
his
different
expressions
.
Of
our
studies
it
is
impossible
to
speak
,
since
they
held
so
slight
a
connection
with
anything
of
the
world
as
living
men
conceive
it
.
They
were
of
that
vaster
and
more
appalling
universe
of
dim
entity
and
consciousness
which
lies
deeper
than
matter
,
time
,
and
space
,
and
whose
existence
we
suspect
only
in
certain
forms
of
sleep
--
those
rare
dreams
beyond
dreams
which
come
never
to
common
men
,
and
but
once
or
twice
in
the
lifetime
of
imaginative
men
.
The
cosmos
of
our
waking
knowledge
,
born
from
such
an
universe
as
a
bubble
is
born
from
the
pipe
of
a
jester
,
touches
it
only
as
such
a
bubble
may
touch
its
sardonic
source
when
sucked
back
by
the
jester
's
whim
.
Men
of
learning
suspect
it
little
and
ignore
it
mostly
.
Wise
men
have
interpreted
dreams
,
and
the
gods
have
laughed
.
One
man
with
Oriental
eyes
has
said
that
all
time
and
space
are
relative
,
and
men
have
laughed
.
But
even
that
man
with
Oriental
eyes
has
done
no
more
than
suspect
.
I
had
wished
and
tried
to
do
more
than
suspect
,
and
my
friend
had
tried
and
partly
succeeded
.
Then
we
both
tried
together
,
and
with
exotic
drugs
courted
terrible
and
forbidden
dreams
in
the
tower
studio
chamber
of
the
old
manor-house
in
hoary
Kent
.
Among
the
agonies
of
these
after
days
is
that
chief
of
torments-inarticulateness
.
What
I
learned
and
saw
in
those
hours
of
impious
exploration
can
never
be
told
--
for
want
of
symbols
or
suggestions
in
any
language
.
I
say
this
because
from
first
to
last
our
discoveries
partook
only
of
the
nature
of
sensations
;
sensations
correlated
with
no
impression
which
the
nervous
system
of
normal
humanity
is
capable
of
receiving
.
They
were
sensations
,
yet
within
them
lay
unbelievable
elements
of
time
and
space
--
things
which
at
bottom
possess
no
distinct
and
definite
existence
.
Human
utterance
can
best
convey
the
general
character
of
our
experiences
by
calling
them
plungings
or
soarings
;
for
in
every
period
of
revelation
some
part
of
our
minds
broke
boldly
away
from
all
that
is
real
and
present
,
rushing
aerially
along
shocking
,
unlighted
,
and
fear-haunted
abysses
,
and
occasionally
tearing
through
certain
well-marked
and
typical
obstacles
describable
only
as
viscous
,
uncouth
clouds
of
vapors
.
In
these
black
and
bodiless
flights
we
were
sometimes
alone
and
sometimes
together
.
When
we
were
together
,
my
friend
was
always
far
ahead
;
I
could
comprehend
his
presence
despite
the
absence
of
form
by
a
species
of
pictorial
memory
whereby
his
face
appeared
to
me
,
golden
from
a
strange
light
and
frightful
with
its
weird
beauty
,
its
anomalously
youthful
cheeks
,
its
burning
eyes
,
its
Olympian
brow
,
and
its
shadowing
hair
and
growth
of
beard
.
Of
the
progress
of
time
we
kept
no
record
,
for
time
had
become
to
us
the
merest
illusion
.
I
know
only
that
there
must
have
been
something
very
singular
involved
,
since
we
came
at
length
to
marvel
why
we
did
not
grow
old
.
Our
discourse
was
unholy
,
and
always
hideously
ambitious
--
no
god
or
demon
could
have
aspired
to
discoveries
and
conquest
like
those
which
we
planned
in
whispers
.
I
shiver
as
I
speak
of
them
,
and
dare
not
be
explicit
;
though
I
will
say
that
my
friend
once
wrote
on
paper
a
wish
which
he
dared
not
utter
with
his
tongue
,
and
which
made
me
burn
the
paper
and
look
affrightedly
out
of
the
window
at
the
spangled
night
sky
.
I
will
hint
--
only
hint
--
that
he
had
designs
which
involved
the
rulership
of
the
visible
universe
and
more
;
designs
whereby
the
earth
and
the
stars
would
move
at
his
command
,
and
the
destinies
of
all
living
things
be
his
.
I
affirm
--
I
swear
--
that
I
had
no
share
in
these
extreme
aspirations
.
Anything
my
friend
may
have
said
or
written
to
the
contrary
must
be
erroneous
,
for
I
am
no
man
of
strength
to
risk
the
unmentionable
spheres
by
which
alone
one
might
achieve
success
.
