But whoever fashioned it, the artist must have been a fiend.

If ever malignant hate was expressed in form, it stood before me.

Even the blank pupils made the malevolence seem but the more undying.

Every feature, every line was horrible, every touch of the chisel had added a fresh grace of devilish spite.

It was simply Evil petrified.
"As this awful face, bared of the innocent creeper that for years had shrouded its ugliness from the light of day, confronted me, a feeling of such repulsion overcame me that for several minutes I could not touch it.