H. P. Lovecraft Quotes

Whole families used to starve in their cabins without their plight being discovered until the stench of their decaying corpses attracted notice.

There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in a dry season and rotting around the feet; impulses smothered too long in the fetid air of underground caves. The soul lives in sickly air. People can be slaveships in shoes.

I hate to see anybody sink. I hate to see anybody lose their dream, lose their home, something like that.

His eyes so dim, so wasted each limb, that, heedless of grammar, they all cried, that's him!

Some people see Baltimore as a hopeless place. Some have even made a lot of money on it.

In Hanover Park they highlighted the terrible plight of backyard dwellers and the fact that year after year nothing has been done to help you: the hope and despair you all live with every day.

We hate our squalor.

There is despair, Mr President, in the faces of those you do not see; in the places that you do not visit.

Remember, the man who is poor is not the man that has no money, but one without a dream. They are suffering that have no dream. They are poor that have no dream.

Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more! Thou hast mocked me, starved me, beat my body sore! And all for a pledge that was not pledged by me, I have kissed thy crust and eaten sparingly That I might eat again, and met thy sneers With deprecations, and thy blows with tears.

An artisan without memories, whose only dream was to die of fatigue in the oblivion and misery of his little gold fishes.

In a world of monotonous horror there could be no salvation in wild dreaming.

In railway halls, on pavements near the traffic, They beg, their eyes made big by empty staring And only measuring Time , like the blank clock. No, I shall weave no tracery of pen-ornament To make them birds upon my singing tree: Time merely drives these lives which do not live As tides push rotten stuff along the shore.

Go ye, who rest so placidly upon the sacred Bard who had been young, and when he strung his harp was old, and had never seen the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging their bread; go, Teachers of content and honest pride, into the mine, the mill, the forge, the squalid depths of deepest ignorance, and uttermost abyss of man's neglect, and say can any hopeful plant spring up in air so foul that it extinguishes the soul's bright torch as fast as it is kindled!

The dark side of life, and the horror of it, belonged to a world that lay remote from his own select little atmosphere of books and dreamings.

If we neglect or abandon those who are suffering in poverty ... not only are we depriving ourselves of potential opportunities for markets and economic growth, but ultimately that despair may turn to violence that turns on us.

The wretched have no friends.

We moved together very slowly toward the house, trying to understand its ugliness and ruin and shame.

Over the hill to the poor-house I'm trudgin' my weary way.

Heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening. Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing. Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.

God's Heart is especially tender toward the downtrodden and the defeated. He knows your name and He has seen every tear you have shed.

Houses turn to corpses overnight when we cease to live and love in them.

The clock tick-tocked, solemn and profound. It might have been the dry pulse of the decaying house itself, after a while it whirred and cleared its throat and struck six times.

London is like the tropical bush -- if you don't exercise constant care the jungle, in the shape of the slums, will break in.