Kitobdan iqtiboslar The Colour Out of Spacemuallif Howard Lovecraft
Audio talqin Yandex Plus multi-obunasida mavjud
It come from some place whar things ain't as they is here
1 kishiga yoqdi
Nothin'… nothin'… the colour… it burns… cold an' wet, but it burns… it lived in the well…
1 kishiga yoqdi
But he did not complete the walk, because what he sought was no longer there. It had come to meet him, and it was still alive after a fashion.
1 kishiga yoqdi
There are things which cannot be mentioned, and what is done in common humanity is sometimes cruelly judged by the law.
1 kishiga yoqdi
Something was creeping and creeping and waiting to be seen and heard.
1 kishiga yoqdi
He and the boys continued to use the tainted supply, drinking it as listlessly and mechanically as they ate their meagre and ill-cooked meals and did their thankless and monotonous chores through the aimless days. There was something of stolid resignation about them all, as if they walked half in another world between lines of nameless guards to a certain and familiar doom.
1 kishiga yoqdi
No sane wholesome colours were anywhere to be seen except in the green grass and leafage; but everywhere were those hectic and prismatic variants of some diseased, underlying primary tone without a place among the' known tints of earth.
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It was nothing of this earth, but a piece of the great outside; and as such dowered with outside properties and obedient to outside laws.
1 kishiga yoqdi
that alien and undimensioned rainbow of cryptic poison from the well – seething, feeling, lapping, reaching, scintillating, straining, and malignly bubbling in its cosmic and unrecognizable chromaticism.
1 kishiga yoqdi