Clark Ashton Smith > Quotes

“Bow down, I am the emperor of dreams.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Last Oblivion: Best Fantastic Poetry of Clark Ashton Smith

“There have been times when only a hair's-breadth has intervened betwixt myself and the seething devil-ridden world of madness; for the hideous knowledge, the horror- blackened memories which I have carried so long, were never meant to be borne by the human intellect. ”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“Not as the plants and flowers of Earth, growing peacefully beneath a simple sun, were the blossoms of the planet Lophai. Coiling and uncoiling in double dawns; tossing tumultuously under vast suns of jade green and balas-ruby orange; swaying and weltering in rich twilights, in aurora-curtained nights, they resembled fields of rooted serpents that dance eternally to an other-worldly music.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, Lost Worlds

“Only the impossible has any real charm; the possible has been vulgarized by happening too often.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“Bow down: I am the emperor of dreams;
I crown me with the million-colored sun
Of secret worlds incredible, and take
Their trailing skies for vestment when I soar,
Throned on the mounting zenith, and illume
The spaceward-flown horizons infinite.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Last Oblivion: Best Fantastic Poetry of Clark Ashton Smith

“All human thought, all science, all religion, is the holding of a candle to the night of the universe.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Black Book of Clark Ashton Smith

“Stern and white as a tomb, older than the memory of the dead, and built by men or devils beyond the recording of myth, is the mansion in which we dwell.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Return of the Sorcerer: The Best of Clark Ashton Smith

“To destroy wonder and mystery, is to destroy the only elements that make existence tolerable.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Black Book of Clark Ashton Smith

“Must beauty blossom, rooted in decay,
And night devour its flaming hues alway?”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Dark Eidolon and Other Fantasies

“in the days when the world begins to bleach and shrivel, and the sun is blotched with death. Socialist and Individualist, they'll all be a little dirt lodged deep in the granite wrinkles of the globe's countenance.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“To me, the best, if not the only function of imaginative writing, is to lead the human imagination outward, to take it into the vast external cosmos, and away from all that introversion and introspection, that morbidly exaggerated prying into one's own vitals—and the vitals of others—which Robinson Jeffers has so aptly symbolized as "incest." What we need is less "human interest," in the narrow sense of the term—not more. Physiological—and even psychological analysis—can be largely left to the writers of scientific monographs on such themes. Fiction, as I see it, is not the place for that sort of grubbing.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“The skies are haunted by that which it were madness to know; and strange abominations pass evermore between earth and moon and athwart the galaxies. Unnamable things have come to us in alien horror and will come again.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“Upon the delicate chin you turned
Venus had set her cloven sign.
Like embers seen through darkest wine
Your unextinguished tresses burned.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“In one picture, the pool was half hidden by a fringe of mace- weeds, and the dead willow was leaning across it at a prone, despondent angle, as if mysteriously arrested in its fall towards the stagnant waters. Beyond, the alders seemed to strain away from the pool, exposing their knotted roots as if in eternal effort. In the other drawing, the pool formed the main portion of the foreground, with the skeleton tree looming drearily at one side. At the water's farther end, the cat-tails seemed to wave and whisper among themselves in a dying wind; and the steeply barring slope of pine at the meadow's terminus was indicated as a wall of gloomy green that closed in the picture, leaving only a pale of autumnal sky at the top. ("Genius Loci")”
― Clark Ashton Smith, American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from Poe to the Pulps

“Tell me tales of inconceivable fear and unimaginable love, in orbs whereto our sun is a nameless star, or unto which its rays have never reached.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The End Of The Story

“Yet from thy lethal lips and thine alone,
Love would I drink, as dew from poison-bloom.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“It would seem, from this, that the people of Omanorion had mastered the ultra-civilized art of minding their own business.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The End Of The Story

“But here, is this place of eternal bareness and solitude, it seemed that life could never have been. The stark, eroded stones were things that might have been reared by the toil of the dead, to house the monstrous ghouls and demons of primal desolation.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, Vaults of Yoh Vombis

“My own conscious ideal has been to delude the reader into accepting an impossibility, or series of impossibilities, by means of a sort of verbal black magic, in the achievement of which I make use of prose-rhythm, metaphor, simile, tone-color, counter-point, and other stylistic resources, like a sort of incantation.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“Psychoanalysis and dianetics are, on the face of it, both absurd. People are what they are because of causes that go infinitely farther back than infancy of the mother's womb”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Black Book of Clark Ashton Smith

“Lo! I am Beauty's constant thrall, Must ever on her voice await, And follow through the maze of Fate Her luring, strange and mystical.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Star-Treader and other poems

“It seems to me that I have lived alone—
Alone, as one that liveth in a dream:
As light on coldest marble, or the gleam
Of moons eternal on a land of stone,
The dawns have been to me. I have but known
The silence of a frozen land extreme—
A sole attending silence, all supreme
As is the sea’s enormous monotone.

Upon the icy desert of my days,
No bright mirages are, but iron rays
Of dawn relentless, and the bitter light
Of all-revealing noon.**** Alone, I crave
The friendly clasp of finite arms, to save
My spirit from the ravening Infinite.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, Ebony and Crystal: Poems in Verse and Prose

“The torture-wheel shall serve him even as these horses from Hell have served my blood-red lilies of Sotar and my vein-colored irises of Naat and my orchids from Uccastrog which were purple as the bruises of love.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“He heard an eery, dry whispering whose source and distance he could not at once determine. Sometimes it seemed at his very ear, and then it ebbed away as if sinking into profound subterranean vaults. But the sound, though variable in this manner, never ceased entirely; and it seemed to shape itself into words that the listener almost understood: words that were fraught with the hopeless sorrow of a dead man who had sinned long ago, and had repented his sin through black sepulchral ages.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“For thin is the veil betwixt man and the godless deep. The skies are haunted by that which it were madness to know; and strange abominations pass evermore between earth and moon and athwart the galaxies. Unnameable things have come to us in alien horror and will come again. And the evil of the stars is not as the evil of earth.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Beast Of Averoigne

“Nothing is stupider than the common complaint that poetry lacks "human interest," unless it concerns itself with human emotions, actions, problems and viewpoints. Anything conceivable by the imagination, any speculation ((conception)) ((emergence)) of what may be beyond, above and beneath the mundane sphere, can ((or may,)) possess "human interest," by enlarging the horizons of that interest.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Black Book of Clark Ashton Smith

“The sand of the desert of Yondo is not as the sand of other deserts; for Yondo lies nearest of all to the world’s rim; and strange winds, blowing from a gulf no astronomer may hope to fathom, have sown its ruinous fields with the grey dust of corroding planets, the black ashes of extinguished suns. The dark orb-like mountains which rise from its wrinkled and pitted plain are not all its own, for some are fallen asteroids.

- The Abominations of Yondo”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Abominations of Yondo

“I was with the first Venusian expedition, under the leadership of Admiral Carfax, in 1977.”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The End Of The Story

“It would seem, O Nushain, that you have doubted your own horoscope,' said the guide, with a certain irony. 'However, even a bad astrologer, on occasion, may read the heavens aright. Obey, then, the stars that decreed your journey.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

“peregrinations”
― Clark Ashton Smith, The Dark Eidolon and Other Fantasies