Best 829 quotes in «scary quotes» category

You see something scary, you should stand up and step toward it, not away from it. Instinctively, reflexively, in a raging fury.

You take all the things that frighten you, and when you can get them to work for you all of sudden people are calling you a success.

You want safe? Find a nice puppy you can train to come heel. Love's supposed to be scary. Because if there's no fear, there's no thrill.

Aber es ist eine seltsame Tatsache, dass das Entsetzliche seine Schrecken verliert, wenn es sich immer wiederholt.

A black dog, tall and wide as a full grown man, took a couple of steps toward them. It bared sharp, yellow fangs big as Bowie knifes. Drool dripped from them to the dried grass below. Unable to help it, Lee wet his pants when he saw the animal’s eyes. It had four glowing orbs that burned with a smoldering red light like the fires of Hell.

A creature--a frightfully, awful creature--was mere feet from her. Its eyes were enormous, the size of goose eggs and milky white. Its gray, slippery skin was stretched taut upon its face. Its mouth was wide and full of needle teeth. Its hands rested on the rock, hands that were webbed and huge with each finger ending in a sharp, curved nail. It was as tall as a human man, yet oddly shrunken and hunched.

A democracy of mean and ignorant people is just as scary as any other horrible form of government.

After torturing our adrenaline by watching a horror movie for a couple of hours the places we are most afraid of are the doors and windows of the room even though they are the only ways for us to escape in case of occurrence such an event.

A long time ago, there was a little girl called Mary. Now Mary, she was warned several times not to go to her neighbor’s house. Her neighbor was a grandmother. But Mary hardly listened, so she snuck off one night to spy on her. She tried the front door first, and it creaked open. Then suddenly, she heard a squeaking noise upstairs. She followed it – climbed up the wooden stairs where half of it was already rotten. She heard the squeaking noise again. It was coming from the library. She opened the door and hid behind a couch. She peered out, and she saw the grandmother.” Dave paused to drain his cup of coffee before continuing. My heart thudded so loudly, I thought that everyone could hear it. “So Mary gasped in disbelief as she heard the squeaking noise again, and the grandmother’s rocking chair was not moving at all. Then the grandmother opened her eyes and looked directly at her, holding her gaze steadily and sharply, and then suddenly, BOO!

A prickle of awareness made the hairs at the back of his neck stand. A deep chill sank into his flesh to settle around his heart, squeezing it. Skeletal fingers scraped along his spine and he wanted to look back over his shoulder, but couldn’t. No, he didn’t dare. If he saw what caused the sound it might be more than he could handle. Rooted to the ground, he couldn’t twitch a finger or twist his head around. His lips glued together, so he couldn’t speak.

. . . a nightmarish thing that frightens Love, haunting her, weighing her down, the thing that she's supposed to love, the way the world initially instructs children to love clowns even though we all know deep down that they're creepy, old, puffy men in masks leering at children.

Animal rage is scary, but not as scary as control.

An oppressive odor of decay now mingled with the stench of mold and seemed to clutch at the very breath in their lungs.

As long as they talk about you, you're not really dead, as long as they speak your name, you continue. A legend doesn't die, just because the man dies.

At least I rescued your poor hot dog.

As she opened it, Latra jumped out from the side, ripping at Aijayy’s face, blood pouring out, some running into her mouth. Her death became a certainty in her mind, and she abandoned herself to it, dropping to the ground, everything going fuzzy. Latra jumped at her like an animal possessed, high in the air, falling. Benshi Phased through the ceiling, grabbing the chandelier on his way down and landing on top of Latra. The sorceress rose up, holding Benshi by the throat. He looked surprisingly calm.

Bodies lay in the sun. Bodies stood in the sun.

But when my gaze falls on my bed, I freeze, no longer worried what Nolan thinks of the pink or DR.Hoo or my unicorn collection. Instead, I hold up my hand and point at the checkerboard. Someone has made the next move.

But that’s what makes it so fun! Life is scary. So why wouldn’t we enjoy and make fun of that fear? It’s like life is trying to makes us fear it, and on this day we just mock its attempts and say ‘no, not today, today I’m not scared of anything you throw at me'.

Cemeteries can be creepy, creepy, ‘specially at night.

Darkness fell, gathering sin.

Come out, come out, wherever you are... come out, come out, or you'll end up in the tar...

…Do you think there’s somewhere else, some other place to go after this one?” Mandy blurted out. “You mean when you die, where will you end up?” Alecto asked her. “…I wouldn’t know… back to whatever void there is, I suppose.” “I’ve thought about it… every living thing dies alone, it’ll be lonely after death,” Mandy sighed sadly. “That freaks me out, does it scare you?” “I don't want to be alone,” Alecto replied wearily. “We won’t be, though. We’ll be dead, so we’ll just be darkness, not much else, just memories, nostalgia and darkness.” “I don’t want to be any of that either though,” Mandy exclaimed, bursting into tears and crying, keeping her eyes to the floor, her voice shaky as she spoke to him. “When we die, we’ll still be nothing, the world will still be nothing, everything’ll just be nothing!” “You’re real though, at least that’s something,” Alecto pointed out, holding his hand out in front of her. Smiling miserably, Mandy took his hand in her own and sat there beside him quietly.

Death was not the scariest thing out there; no, the denial of it could be far worse.

Don’t get all gothic and emo on me now. - Tory

Given that I don’t know anything, when I am making up stories about the future, why not make it a good story instead of a scary one?

Even for the very clever it can be like breaking bones to stand back from something that’s been in front of you all your life.

Fear and hopelessness washed over her. She was looking her own mortality in the face, and it was a horrifying thing to do.

Forget the American dream...whats your dream? The thing that keeps you up at night...the thing that makes you happy...the thing that keeps your spirit going. Do that thing. Don't label it a hobby or what you do in your spare time type of thing...label that thing you do the thing you love to do. The thing you were born to do. When you stop doing what you love you lose a huge part of yourself. Don't get lost.

If we stay where we are, where we're stuck, where we're comfortable and safe, we die there. We become like mushrooms, living in the dark, with poop up to our chins. If you want to know only what you already know, you're dying. You're saying: Leave me alone; I don't mind this little rathole. It's warm and dry. Really, it's fine. When nothing new can get in, that's death. When oxygen can't find a way in, you die. But new is scary, and new can be disappointing, and confusing - we had this all figured out, and now we don't. New is life.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –

He looked like a thing broken loose from a bedtime story, something unreal ... The giant watched her from above with a bizarre contemplation, his head tilted acrook, as if he'd snared some exquisite fairy from a storybook tale his own.

His body walks out onto the darkened stage , and a roar goes up from the crowd. He stands in front of the mic, and he can feel his face twist in a sneer-the Elvis sneer from his dreams-though he never told it to move. He is powerless now, a spectator at his own moment of glory.

He locked the doors and windows and sat in the middle of a room afraid of going out there in the storm and rain, in the darkest night he had ever seen. All of a sudden there were knocks everywhere and the walls turned into the glass so that he could helplessly witness his fears approach him like the ghosts. He saw them crawling on the wall and climbing the roof staring into his eyes, in no time the walls disappeared and they stood around him laughing and consuming him one by one at a time. all he saw, in the end, was the ugly and scary faces of himself.

He smelled like alcohol and a bad dream.

How scary and sudden the shift from Living to Dead.

If that is scary I really don't understand you, the idea is the lesson.

…I’m afraid of what the digital age will do to the world, to the things we think are important… it’s almost like people want to believe in some illusion that they’re robots and forget altogether that they’re real, living people… but everything these days is disposable, even people themselves, and that’s why I’m afraid for the world,” Mandy confessed, looking depressed and worried. “So am I… but I’ll still watch all of it as the world dooms itself, because I want to see how it ends, and whether or not they’ll be intelligent enough to forget all of this digital illusion afterwards,” Alecto explained. “I’m sure that they’ll be able to realize how wrong it all is… even though the idiots outnumber most people these days, there are still enough intelligent people to fight against it.

If you truly love something, you should set it free. If it comes back.. Lock them in cage and throw the key. If it doesn’t then.. Damn them to Hell.

If you were me you’d do the right thing, help your friends, because you’re not a coward,” Mandy sighed sadly. “I covered up a murder because I was scared to go to jail and I did the wrong thing… well, now’s my chance to do the right thing, to save someone’s life, because I don’t want you to die.” “Save someone’s life? I’m no one,” Alecto laughed morbidly. “A hundred and twelve years is definitely way too long to have survived. You’d be wasting your time and risking your own life….” “This is my life,” Mandy declared, smiling sincerely. Alecto just looked concerned and very doubtful as the rain drizzled down the roads and sidewalks, towards the harbour where it fell into the ocean, indistinguishable from all the other water in the world.

Imagine a perfect world

I’m getting the feeling that you two don’t like me. - Kristy

If you want your son or daughter to be positive. Like to enjoy life and so on and so on - focus on the positive, nature, birds, quite and fast waterfalls... If you want to be negative which will mean a killer, a slaughter focus on the negative. Kill infront of the eyes a chicken slaughter it, fast and quick... do it often, read scary horror books!

I guess if there’s one thing I can say about the 21st century, it’s that the 21st century is all flash and no substance… everything is digital, nothing but files of invisible electronic data on computers and mindless zombies on their cellular phones… it’s sad how because of the digital age, society is ultimately doomed. Nothing in the digital age is real anymore, and you know, they say celluloid film and ray tube televisions and maybe even paper might become obsolete in this century? …What’s most annoying is that nobody cares, they’ve just learned to accept the digital age and get addicted to it… none of them are ever going to step up and say to the world, “you’re all a bunch of sheep!” and even if they did say anything, I doubt anyone would listen… they’re all too obsessed and attached to their cellular phones and overly big televisions and whatever other moronic things they’ve got these days… it almost makes me want an apocalypse to happen, to erase digital technology and force the world to start over again.

I have never been scared of the darkness, not even a little bit. In the dark you hear nothing but the truth, you see nothing but real faces and naked souls. On the contrary I’ve always been afraid of the light, where people talk about everything but never say a thing and where they wear a fake skin; because they do know that there is an eye watching or judging them here or there …

I’m not a big fan of Halloween. Except for the dressing up part. I love picking out a costume. - Tory

I stared down at my hands and saw the blood coat them, how warm and real something felt when it wasn’t just ink and stains. This was life and I was holding it in my hands. I drew my eyes back up and beneath the flickering streetlight and the throng of drunken cattle, I saw nothing else but the dead girl. Somebody out there had taken her life, her heart, and there I was with her warm, sticky blood. Feeling the most alive I’d felt in years. I had to find him. I just had to.

I never said you had to like it. You have to accept it. No regret." -Clare Harding.

In God's eye I spit, hair upon thy rigid tail sharp fangs glittery wet. Earth be thy sand, the sinful be thy toy, I've been playing forever, in song no longer do I find joy. In Gods eye I fight the bad fight with a goal as sharp as an axe, to ungently place thy hands upon its omnipotent thorax.

In the jumbled, fragmented memories I carry from my childhood there are probably nearly as many dreams as images from waking life. I thought of one which might have been my earliest remembered nightmare. I was probably about four years old - I don't think I'd started school yet - when I woke up screaming. The image I retained of the dream, the thing which had frightened me so, was an ugly, clown-like doll made of soft red and cream-coloured rubber. When you squeezed it, bulbous eyes popped out on stalks and the mouth opened in a gaping scream. As I recall it now, it was disturbingly ugly, not really an appropriate toy for a very young child, but it had been mine when I was younger, at least until I'd bitten its nose off, at which point it had been taken away from me. At the time when I had the dream I hadn't seen it for a year or more - I don't think I consciously remembered it until its sudden looming appearance in a dream had frightened me awake. When I told my mother about the dream, she was puzzled. 'But what's scary about that? You were never scared of that doll.' I shook my head, meaning that the doll I'd owned - and barely remembered - had never scared me. 'But it was very scary,' I said, meaning that the reappearance of it in my dream had been terrifying. My mother looked at me, baffled. 'But it's not scary,' she said gently. I'm sure she was trying to make me feel better, and thought this reasonable statement would help. She was absolutely amazed when it had the opposite result, and I burst into tears. Of course she had no idea why, and of course I couldn't explain. Now I think - and of course I could be wrong - that what upset me was that I'd just realized that my mother and I were separate people. We didn't share the same dreams or nightmares. I was alone in the universe, like everybody else. In some confused way, that was what the doll had been telling me. Once it had loved me enough to let me eat its nose; now it would make me wake up screaming. ("My Death")