Best 195 quotes in «nightmares quotes» category

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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 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.

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

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!

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

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.