'' the unfinished pictures on easels or propped against the walls were as ghastly as the finished ones upstairs ... there was something very disturbing about the nauseous sketches and half-finished monstrosities that leered around from every side of the room, and when pickman suddenly unveiled a huge canvas on the side away from the light i could not for my life keep back a loud scream ...
'' it was a collossal and nameless blasphemy with glaring red eyes, and it held in its bony claws a thing that had been a man, ... and as one looked one felt that at any moment it might drop its present prey and seek a juicier morsel ... as i am a living being i never elswhere saw the actual breath of life so fused into canvas. the monster was there-it glared and gnawed and gnawed and glared-and i knew that only a suspension of natures laws could ever let a man paint a thing like that without a model ...''
h.p.lovecraft, pickman's model.
i: toronto tunnel-ghoul.
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