Best 195 quotes in «nightmares quotes» category

The day will come when we strike you down,” she’s saying. “Mark my words. We will haunt your nightmares.” I clench my fists and fling an illusion of pain across her body. “I am the nightmare.

The Dream Maker is here by consent of every person who ever came here.

The fears of a few seconds ago seem unfounded, as nightmares always do when the light comes back on.

The incident plaguing him on this very night, did not have any relation to the jungles, the killing fields, the faces of villagers and the Vietcong, nor the hours of trekking through the mud, to destinations never revealed over the radios.

There can be no friendship between our peoples. We live in your nightmares, and you are but our dreams.

The man standing in the booth placing the tickets into her hands for the fun-house loomed largely in front of her with arms comprised of iron muscle. She remembered the gray cataract that covered over one of his eyes and the terrified feeling it gave her. She had been too young to understand the malady. To her; his eye looked as though it belonged to a creature from the sea. A frightening creature composed of reptilian and fish like attributes, which would pull unsuspecting prey underneath the darkest oceans. The smile on his face, with the crooked teeth, the cigar, contrasting with the bald head and unshaven face increased her sense of panic.

The only way to stop a nightmare is to open your eyes, if perchance you realize you were dreaming

The little girl’s face was from Will’s vilest nightmares. Cavernous mouth, distended chin, bastardized nose. The enormous, bulging eyes glared at Will, demanded he see the truth, commanded him to acknowledge his sin.

These things do not happen in dreams, dear girl,' he said, vanishing up to his neck. 'They happen only in nightmares.' His head spiralled and he was gone.

There were dragons, in his dreams, as though some part of him knew the trials were not yet over, that there were battles yet to be fought. He slept fitfully, fidgeting, tossing and turning, groaning and crying out in his sleep.

The second day, I watched you suffer through one of your nightmares, but this one was worse than I’d seen before. You called out another man’s name.

The sky is but a looking glass into a pool of airless oceans, cast off into a dance of light and energy, leaving only a facet of guidance to navigate. Such an existence lays but within the mind man.

There was a crash like the falling parts of a dream fashioned out of warped glass, mirrors, and crystal prisms.

The traumatic moment becomes encoded in an abnormal form of memory, which breaks spontaneously into consciouness, both as flashbacks during waking states and as traumatic nightmares during sleep. Small, seemingly insignificant reminders can also evoke these memories, which often return with all the vividness and emotional force of the original event. Thus, even normally safe environments may come to feel dangerous, for the survivor can never be assured that she will not encounter some reminder of the trauma.

The thought burrowed into her heart as darkness fell. It coiled in her guts as she wedged herself amongst the boughs of a tree to sleep. And in the morning, it woke with her and clung to her back, riding on her shoulders as she climbed down, hungry and exhausted from nightmares.

The things that kept them awake in the middle of the night, the things they did underneath the cover of darkness, both dreadful and beautiful, both attractive and repulsive, were revealed in stark clarity to their minds. A harsh reality that intensified sensations with each gust of wind. They shrank from it with frightened whimpers. The setting in each house would have fit perfectly into a post-apocalyptic tale of nuclear holocausts. Shell-shocked expressions gazed into the nothingness. Blankets over faces, silent prayers to the heavens. No curious eyes at the windows, or storm watchers dared to partake. The mere thought of looking out was too much to be borne.

They dabbled in dark magic like finger painters in first grade art class, and then most of them were either killed by their creations or ran the other way from the nightmares they unleashed.

The worst stories usually make you think: 'but nobody had to die'. These are called true stories.

The word nightmare is not a reference to a mare (female horse) seen at night, but to a terrifying dream – one in which the dreamer experiences helplessness, anxiety, fear, and possibly sorrow. The symbolism is that of a horse trotting through your dream in some uncontrollable fashion wreaking all kinds of havoc.

They had three cadences, these spectral drummers, which they called First Kings, Second Kings, and Revelations. Going into a fight, they went from one cadence to another with no apparent signal until the officers began to shout commands and men began to fall. Then the drummers began a solemn drill beat that Bushrod believed would be the muttering undertone of every nightmare he would ever have.

We get all the bad dreams, ese," she said, stroking my wet cheek with the palm of her hand. "We got to leave some for somebody else.

This I would wish, that there was no time or sleep. No more past, or future, and everything we did was good the first time, for the day. Without the need of looking back to learn from the past, and no future to hope for the better. No more tiredness, or having a need to dream, and no nightmares to fear. If there was a second time, this is how I would like to start over.

Those in their snug Bed-chambers may call the Fears of Night meer Bugbears, but their Minds have not pierced into the Horror of the World which others, who are adrift upon it, know.

too many grown-ups tell kids to follow their dreams like that's going to get them somewhere Auntie Laurie says follow your nightmares instead cuz when you figure out what's eating you alive you can slay it

They spring from deep within us, these nightmares, these folktales. They speak of our deepest needs, the ones we have all been taught since childhood never to put into words, because dreams reveal our other face, the one we keep hidden, the Hyde to mankind’s collective Jekyll.

They say the mad live in a world of dreams, or nightmares. I just need to find the way out.

This is the place of nightmares in so many ways, but there's nightmares on the outside, too, and one day, when you're not even looking for it, you'll find something perfect in here, and you'll feel whole. Hold onto that.

Through the night we drove in a tangle of waking and sleeping, nightmares from hell and holy white dreams.

Too often dreams become living nightmares when we turn goals into jobs.

We are more than the person who wakes each day. We are the dreams of the previous night and the nightmares of the week before.

We deal with so many nightmares on a regular basis. When I’m watching a horror movie, there’s a pattern, a sense of control in them. I’m just an observer, not having to deal with any of the repercussions. It’s a nice dream to think monsters play by the rules, that they’ve got a pattern you can unlock and follow. Real life’s messy, and the chaos leaves you devastated in the wake.

With my newfound sense of safety came strange thoughts and fragments of scenes flashing in my head. They came slowly enough for me to see them clearly, but out of context, and I didn't understand what they meant. More and more often, I woke up drenched in sweat.

When I was small I dreamed of demons. I thought they were under my bed, but you said, it can't be so, you don't get demons our side of the river, the guards won't let them over London Bridge.

What about nightmares? Have you experienced sexual dreams of a dark nature?

When life becomes a nightmare all you have are your dreams.

When she woke up crying for one of her nightmares, the Kolker would stay with her, brush her hair with his hands, collect her tears in thimbles for her to drink the next morning (The only way to overcome sadness is to consume it, he said), and more than that: once her eyes closed and she fell back asleep, he was left to bear the insomnia. There was a complete transfer, like a speeding billiard ball colliding with a resting one. Should Brod feel depressed - she was always depressed - the Kolker would sit with her until he could convince her that it’s OK. It is. Really. And when she would move on with her day, he would stay behind, paralysed with a grief he couldn’t name and that wasn’t his. Should Brod become sick, it was the Kolker that would be bedridden by week’s end. Should Brod feel bored, knowing too many languages, too many facts, with too much knowledge to be happy, the Kolker would stay up all night studying her books, studying the pictures, so the next day he could try to make the kind of small talk that would please his young wife.

When your dream turns into a nightmare, rise to the challenge and slaughter the dragons

When you wake up from a nightmare, the reality comforts you. When you wake up from the best dream ever, reality is a burden, a slap-in-the-face reminder that you could feel this, you could have this, but you don’t and you won’t.

Who am I fooling? Bad dreams never end. We just pretend they aren’t there.

Writers,” Esther said simply. “For some reason, a lot of you reject what you hear and see in your heads. If you go too long ignoring it, it builds up and then you do all sorts of weird things. Mumble to yourself. Nightmares. Daydreams. Total anarchy and chaos. Before you know it, the writer is either sitting in a corner feverishly humming to his- or herself or on Prozac.

You should only be scared of your imagination because it'll haunt you at night

You are the keeper of your memories. And you are the composer of your nightmares.

You are much larger than anything you encounter while you sleep. Everything that happens in dream takes place on a small stage in a corner of your mind.

You can’t murder that which is eternal, that which will lie until death itself passes. But you can slow it, cripple it, hobble it. You can hurt your nightmares; it’s a two-way street.

You have to face your nightmares, Jack. You have to unpack them like you would open up a gift. You must take your nightmares out of the box you’ve stuffed them into so you can learn what are lies and what is the truth.

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

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.

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 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.