I am what I might term an unprejudiced sceptic. I am not given to either believing or disbelieving things ‘on principle,’ as I have found many idiots prone to be, and what is more, some of them not ashamed to boast of the insane fact.

And oft I harked into the night of the Land; but there was nowhere any sound, or disturbing of the aether, to trouble me.

The immutable, awful quiet of a dying world.

And, suddenly, it came home to me that I was a little man in a little ship, in the midst of a very great sea.

...the history of all love is writ with one pen.

وقد كانت الصدفة، حين استيقظتْ على ذكرى كتابٍ قرأتْه في السنوات الأولى، لكنها لم تفهمْ ما به من كلام؛ إذ أنه كتابٌ قديمٌ كُتِبَ بطريقة قديمة. ذلك الكتاب كان يعرض قصة الحب بين رجل وخادمة يُطلق عليها (ميرداث). وهكذا، لأنها كانت على وعيٍ شاملٍ ومعرفةٍ بتلك العصور المعروفة بـ عصور الصمت، فقد قرأتْ ذلك الكتاب مرات عديدة، فازداد رونقُ القصةِ جمالًا بسبب ما فيه من حب عميق.

I am what I might term an unprejudiced sceptic. I am not given to either believing or disbelieving things 'on principle,' as I have found many idiots prone to be, and what is more, some of them not ashamed to boast of the insane fact.

To my right, which was to the North, there stood, very far away, the House of Silence, upon a low hill. And in that House were many lights, and no sound. And so had it been through an uncountable Eternity of Years.

To the North-West I looked, and in the wide field of my glass, saw plain the bright glare of the fire from the Red Pit, shine upwards against the underside of the vast chin of the North-West Watcher—The Watching Thing of the North-West…. "That which hath Watched from the Beginning, and until the opening of the Gateway of Eternity" came into my thoughts, as I looked through the glass ….

And, so to tell more about the South Watcher. A million years gone, as I have told, came it out from the blackness of the South, and grew steadily nearer through twenty thousand years; but so slow that in no one year could a man perceive that it had moved.