Best 195 quotes in «nightmares quotes» category

All possible dreams exist, the normal, the abnormal, the unimaginable. Without action, they have no consequence, so why are some considered nightmares, and others fantasy? - The Malwatch

And everybody dreams about vampires; we grow up dreaming about them. They're the first and worst monster that lives under everybody's bed.

And now I Carve the things I saw in my fever dreams, just as they always wished. I dreamed of you, I think. In the end, I suppose they'll wish I hadn't dreamed at all.

Ah, Proph." Tom paused. "You did have a nightmare last night." "And here I thought maybe I dreamed it," Prophet muttered sarcastically.

Adding to my emotional dizziness on Sunday, I spoke with my sister, who kept noting how amazing Michael is, and what a brave and selfless man he is for having helped as he did.

Annie refused to believe in nightmares. Anything she feared at night, she knew she could kill once awake.

A nightmare might force you awakened. The tough life might force you awakened.

Are you sure this isn't a nightmare? And that we won't just wake up? Yes. Because dreamers always wake up and leave their monsters behind.

AS I SLEEP I fear that darkness Finds me As I sleep When life is quieted Midnight’s brutal feet Cast upon me Cementing me Against my pillow In a heaven Of black roses

A ten-year-old Amanda wandering around the sights and sounds of a carnival. Trying to take it all in as such an event was much larger than the backroads of isolated territory from whence she grew up. She could not imagine this many people assembled in one place. It was made more disturbing by the fact none of them seemed familiar. Short for her age, she wandered unnoticed among the crowds and began to feel the first stirrings of fear. The loud talk, the screaming children, the long lines of procession, along with the myriads of odors created a miasma that she wanted to flee. The laughter and the faux expressions of joy on the faces of people, took on the maroon tones of a nightmare. She could imagine underneath the laughter, were horrid screams about to erupt.

Bad dreams are better than no dreams...at least they tell you what you're afraid of knowing.

And that someone would pay. Revenge is a cold bedfellow, Diana had said, but Emma didn't believe that. Revenge would let her think about her parents without a cold knot forming in her stomach. She would be able to dream without seeing their drowned faces and hearing their voices cry out for her help.

Bria was silent for a moment. “What—what were you dreaming about?” I shrugged. “The usual. The night that our mother and Annabella died. I always see different parts of it, different bits and pieces.” “What did you see tonight?” I grimaced, even though she couldn’t see it in the darkness. “Oh, tonight was a real doozy. I dreamed about watching them die, about seeing them both disappear into balls of flames as Mab’s elemental Fire washed over them.” “Oh.

Because of fear, most people don’t dream big. Because of fear, even those who dream big do not start working on them. Because of fear, those who start working on their dreams end up quitting too early.

But the fact is, dreams catch us with our armor off.

But then, as I looked in the mirror, I became fixated on some hairs near my carotid artery that were still there. I pushed the blade deep against my neck to shave them off, and then blood squirted out.

By morning I was worn out. My limbs felt heavy as wood, my head cottony. I might've felt better if I hadn't slept at all.

But I stayed up thinking about how I've been lying to him, no less than I lie to myself in my pre-sleep ritual. And I lied to him again just as we were growing more intimate than ever and he asked me about my scar.

As for me, sleep was a country I no longer visited, despite my incantation. When I did, I wished for my waking life, the hours when I didn't see the nightmare images of all that had happened and all I had become.

Carla's description was typical of survivors of chronic childhood abuse. Almost always, they deny or minimize the abusive memories. They have to: it's too painful to believe that their parents would do such a thing. So they fragment the memories into hundreds of shards, leaving only acceptable traces in their conscious minds. Rationalizations like "my childhood was rough," "he only did it to me once or twice," and "it wasn't so bad" are common, masking the fact that the abuse was devastating and chronic. But while the knowledge, body sensations, and feelings are shattered, they are not forgotten. They intrude in unexpected ways: through panic attacks and insomnia, through dreams and artwork, through seemingly inexplicable compulsions, and through the shadowy dread of the abusive parent. They live just outside of consciousness like noisy neighbors who bang on the pipes and occasionally show up at the door.

Chase your dreams and your nightmares will grow tired of chasing you.

Dark nights, bright days!

Darkness is happening," said the leather woman, very quietly. "Night is happening. All the nightmares that have come out when the sun goes down, since the cave times, when we huddled together in fear for safety and for warmth, are happening. Now.

Dead flesh and sharpened scalpels didn't bother me. I was my father's daughter, after all. My nightmares were made of darker things.

Do not ignore dreams. They are a line from the past to the future. All nightmares are real.

Dreams are horrible, to don't talk about nightmares they are more often. But there is always one gift from a person which you know is dead, that's how it works and it will continue to work.

Die in my nightmares; I will live in yours.

Dirck's mind hadn't stopped racing since the arrest. Why were the only dreams that came true nightmares?

Dreams can only be seen with open eyes, what you see while you asleep are nightmares.

Emergency Rooms ... were the nightmares your nightmares had while they slept.

Even dead he won't let me go!" "Third time's the charm.

Dreams so often become nightmares. Family can so easily become foes. And people are always more stupid than you give them credit for.

Even in his sleep he couldn't escape.

Even though it’s pleasing to boast about achievements I have earned in my generation, nothing makes me more content in the world than just having the exciting opportunity to share my passion of work with the public. What is even more exhilarating, is being able (having the capability) to spend quality time with my loving wife, (Gloria) and family doing what I love most in the world -- writing. Their total well-being and health, along with my health too means everything to me. I have had my fair share of narrow escapes in my life to know how important my family, and health are to me. I will never take that for granted again – ever.

Finnick and I sit for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I can ask, 'How do you bear it?' Finnick looks at me in disbelief. 'I don't, Katniss! Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking.' Something in my expression stops him. 'Better not give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart.' Well, he must know. I take a deep breath, forcing myself back into one piece.

Evil, let it never be mistaken, is real. But it is inferior. It is parasitic. It is incomplete. The moment we take counsel from it, become overwhelmed by it, or put it on an equal footing with the Good of God, it will have become something entirely more dangerous. It becomes an idol.

from under the ground, from under the waters, they clutch at us, they clutch at us, we won’t let go.

Every man has at least one nightmare he'd like to keep to himself.

Gardeners produce flowers that are delicious dreams, and others too that are like nightmares.

Flushed with starlight and moonlight drowned, All the dreamers are castle-bound. At midnight’s stroke, we will unwind, Revealing fantasies soft or unkind. Show me debauched nightmares or sunniest daydreams. Come not as you are but as you wish to be seen.

Fucking nightmares. My heart starts to slow down. Glancing down at the floor, I see Tybalt, who is glaring at me with a puffed-up tail. I wonder if he had been sleeping on my chest and I catapulted him off when I woke up. I don't remember, but I wish that I did, because it would've been hilarious.

He brought the hammer down on the stake once more, and the blood that pulsed from Barlow's chest turned black. Then, dissolution. It came in the space of two seconds, too fast to ever be believed in the daylight of later years, yet slow enough to recur again and again in nightmares, with awful stopmotion slowness.

Haunted by nightmares are often the devils in your bloodlines.

Give a smile always, not once a while. Life's great when you wake up and ignore the scaring nightmares you had. Forget the bitter bile; life's sweet beyond River Nile. File your teeth out and smile!

Her voice never stops: even when I sleep, it is a shining silver thread running through most of my dreams and all my nightmares, whispering, beseeching, threatening: One word from you is all I want. Just speak one word, and we'll begin. Name, rank, and serial number, perhaps the misquoted lyrics from a popular song: anything will do. From there we'll move with slow cautious steps to gentle verbal sparring, twice-told tales, descriptions of the scarred and darkest places of our old and worn-out souls. I'll love you back; I'll tell you secrets—

Her world fragmented into dozens of sharp, cutting shards, shedding the salty blood and saltier tears that ringed the bitter cocktail of her despair. She was caterpillar and butterfly, both, caught in a cocoon of raw nerves and open sores; she was insanity, wrapped up in the thin, transient wrappings of a temporary lucidity; and she was afraid, because an innate desire lay in the bottom reaches of her psyche for the very poison that was killing her.

He's a nightmare," she said. "I can be, too." Rook answered, his red eyes glowing. "Just try me.

His dad's eyes were getting darker. "How bad is it really?" Very bad. Too many fronts to fight. Bur for starters... "That big storm out east?" Jordan and Rook had gone to investigate... "That's the Sandman in the waking world." His dad frowned deeply. He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know what that means." Yeah, well... "Neither do we.

He clearly suffers from some past traumas too, so hopefully he'll understand why I was untruthful to him about mine.

His mind was still at the precinct, where he saw his friend being yanked out of the car. It was an image he would never forget. He dreaded the terrifying experience that must have followed for her. He had a feeling he was going to have nightmares for years.