" Where is the writer,” he began, “who is unstained by any habits of the human, who is the ideal of everything alien to living, and whose eccentricity, in its darkest phase, turns in on itself to form increasingly more complex patterns of strangeness? Where is the writer who has lived out his entire life in a prodigious dream that began on his day of birth, if not long before? "

― Thomas Ligotti , Songs of a Dead Dreamer and Grimscribe