Alyssa Macpherson

“many aficionados now seek originals of his powerful studies of the alien, which depict distorted colossi striding across mist-enshrouded jungles or peering round the dripping stones of some druidic circle.”
― Brian M. Sammons, The Children of Gla'aki: A Tribute to Ramsey Campbell's Great Old One

“The only thing that carried a pulse in that apartment was an uncomfortably large print in the living room – a painting of a smiling girl-gymnast with silk angel wings, arms outstretched on a balance beam, rainbow colors bleeding off her and then melting into a dark expanse. I guess it was supposed to be inspirational – Through Me All Things Are Possible, it said in flamingo pink script – but the glow in the girl, the pitch-blackness of her eyes, gave me vertigo. Like looking down through a bridge of glass onto the Milky Way.”
― Robert S. Wilson, Ashes and Entropy

“I realized what it was about her that seemed so different now: her skin was barely thick enough to contain a human soul. And underneath she was all flesh, no blood. Pulseless meat on a butcher’s block. One of those preserved cadavers propped up in a science exhibit, calf muscles forever engaged, a display of the naked wonder of the human body at full gallop.”
― Robert S. Wilson, Ashes and Entropy

“Because unless you’re actively bleeding, and sometimes even then, you’ve probably got something more to give.”
― Robert S. Wilson, Ashes and Entropy