The House on the Borderland

The House on the Borderland by William Hope Hodgson On each side I looked and saw more continually. The mountains were full of strange things--Beast-gods and Horrors so atrocious and bestial that possibility and decency deny any further attempt to describe them. And I--I was filled with a terrible sense of overwhelming horror and fear and repugnance; yet spite of these I wondered exceedingly. Was there then after all something in the old heathen worship something more than the mere deifying of men animals and elements? The thought gripped me--was there?