From even the greatest of horrors irony is seldom absent.

I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.

I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded,
Without knowledge, or lustre, or name.

No new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the commonplace.

The one test of the really weird (story) is simply this--whether or not there be excited in the reader a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wings or the scratching of outside shapes and entities on the known universe's utmost rim.

From even the greatest of horrors, irony is seldom absent.