The Castle of Otranto

Visions have always been...my pasture. I almost think there is no wisdom comparable to that of exchanging the realities of life for dreams. Old castles, old pictures, old histories take one back into centuries that cannot disappoint. I waked one morning from a dream of which all I could recover was that I had thought myself in a ancient castle and that on the uppermost banister of a great staircase I saw a gigantic hand in armour. In the evening I sat down to write, without knowing in the least what I intended to say or relate. The work grew on my hands and I grew fond of it—in short I was so engrossed with my tale, which I completed in less than two months, that one evening I wrote till I could not hold the pen to finish the sentence!' —Horace Walpole