Middle Manager Gal: Although, is Hell technically haunted? It’s more like filled with damned souls.
Middle Manager Guy: Yes, I suppose so. I mean, most modern corporate headquarters couldn’t be considered haunted. It’d be more like they were… I don’t know.. possessed.
Gal: Infested with the unholy?
Guy: Yes the sort of place that you would demolish and then have the ground salted just to make sure this sort of thing never happens again.
Gal: I wonder how you look that ritual up?
Look at us! Running away from a tripod! Being fired on by a heat ray! Dreams really do come true!
Dr Herbert West
Our Fair City: Herbert West vs the Martians
Shakespeare was partly wrong—
the world’s a stage,
This is admitted by the bard’s detractors.
Had William seen some Hamlets
of this age
He’d not have called all men
upon it actors.
Cobwebs from a Library Corner by John Kendrick Bangs
I work in Special Collections in our Library (among other depts) and ran across this book recently. Oddly, the version at the Internet Archive doesn’t include this poem, although it’s listed in the table of contents. Anyway, it’s a cute li’l book!
Our young scouts encounter a local shepherd, who warns them about the four individuals who haunt the well.
“Rags and bones, young gentlemen: all four of ’em: flutterin’ rags and whity bones. It seemed to me as if I could hear ’em clackin’ as they got along. Very slow they went, and lookin’ from side to side.”
“What were their faces like? Could you see?”
“They hadn’t much to call faces,” said the shepherd, “but I could seem to see as they had teeth.”
Wailing Well by M R James.
Nikola Tesla was talking about his student days at Prague.
“I remember well at Prague,” he said, “an old professor of great originality and acumen. This professor insisted on the value of a free use of the perceptive faculties, and he was always pointing out the need for this use in strange ways.
“One day, on arising to lecture, he began: ‘Gentlemen, you do not use your faculties of observation as you should.’
“He laid on the table before him a pot, filled with some vile-smelling chemical compound – a thick, brown stuff.
“’When I was a student,’ he went on, ‘I did not fear to use my sense of taste.’
“He dipped his finger deep into the pot and then stuck the finger in his mouth.
“’Taste it, gentlemen. Taste it,’ he said, smiling grimly.
“The evil pot passed round the class, and one after another we dipped our fingers in it and then sucked them clean. The taste of the thick brown compound was horrible. We made wry faces and spluttered. The professor watched us with a grim smile.
“When the pot was finally returned to him, his thin lips parted, and he gave a dry chuckle.
“’I must repeat gentlemen.’ he said, ‘that you do not use your faculties of observation. If you had looked more closely at me you would have observed that the finger I put in my mouth was not the one I dipped into the pot.’”
New-York Tribune, 27 Nov 1904, pg 11-12
"I would like to talk with you, my dear sir," he said, "but I feel far from well to-day. I am completely worn out, in fact, and yet I cannot stop my work. These experiments of mine are so important, so beautiful, so fascinating, that I can hardly tear myself away from them to eat, and when I try to sleep I think about them constantly. I expect I shall go on until I break down altogether."
Nikola Tesla speaking to Walter T Stephenson for the article, Nikola Tesla and the Electric Light of the Future published in The Outlook 9 March 1895.