Best 2148 quotes in «horror quotes» category

People are often wary of reading or watching anything in the horror genre because in their minds, it's just senseless gore, death and violence. Well, I can tell you from avid experience, that's not what horror is about. The horror genre teaches us that sometimes really bad things happen to really good people, but that hope always prevails in even the darkest of situations. That's a very important lesson, no matter how frightening you think the teacher is, and to be in the top of her class, all you need to do is to go in with an open mind.

People don’t always take us seriously,” she continued. “People come to HorrorLand and think it’s all a big joke. People laugh at the signs around the park. They laugh at the rides and attractions.

People fail to realize that horror isn’t just monsters and death. Sometimes, it’s learning to accept the darkness of human nature.

People never think of a child as being a monster, because if they did, they would never be able to sleep at night. Children are where lies peoples hopes, dreams, innocence... Not where lies murder.

People says it gets easier. People are stupid." -Vlad

People tend to see what they want when they see video footage and it is not always the whole truth.

People thought up the idea that animals don't have the same capability of suffering as humans, because otherwise they couldn't bear the knowledge that they are surrounded by a world of nature that is horror, and nothing but horror.

People talk about survival. What they mean is killing the other guy.

People which deserv support are people like Vsauce (A guy who I don't know how to describe... but as overall awesome character.) Rob Dyke (How he won't deserv one support or many?)... what he is doing is blowing mind it's about Anatomy of Murder and Serial KIllers files... that's crazy. And the best of all you can find a lot of information about many prisoners.

People who fell in love at first sight, rushed home to their parents to tell them the good news and subsequently married were, [Patricia Highsmith] thought, retarded. Rather, a more honest appraisal of the nature of love positions it nearer to the horrors of mental illness. How else could you explain the fact that so many people were prepared to sacrifice the safety and cosiness of their lives for the thrill of a new romance?

Person 1: "Stay back....I have a demon inside of me." Person 2: "Let me get closer...I have a hell inside me where your demons can live." (from Dark Winter, #2 - out Halloween 2014)

Pictures ... flashed on her in sudden color, too much color, shocking color, the color that leaps out of black when lightning strikes at night.

Piedra a piedra, el muro se iba desmoronando y el monstruo estiraba las piernas, flexionaba las garras, se relamía los labios. Al día siguiente empezaba la caza.

Placing blame is just the human way. What’s done is done.

Pienso en John diciendo que Wharton había matado a las gemelas Detterick valiéndose del amor que había entre ellas, que pasaba lo mismo todos los días, en todas partes del mundo. Si ocurre así es porque Dios permite que ocurra, y cuando le decimos "no te entiendo", Él responde "no me importa".

Please... Don't make me a murderer.

Please, never tell me what 'horror erotica' is. Real #art is being lost in a bizarre swamp of over-processed, sexually exploitative garbage.

Poetry comes within, not the person you pretend to be out there... Take your fears, your failures, your flaws and dip your pen in that ink, For when it comes to writing something beautiful, we all must first face the monsters, we would rather just erase.

Ponder now by thyself, how great fruit of wickedness the grain of evil seed had brought forth. And when the ears shall be cut down, which are without number, how great a floor shall they fill?

Potkraj Drugoga svjetskog rata izvukli su me iz škole i, kao šesnaestogodišnjaka, gurnuli u vojsku. Nakon kratke vojničke izobrazbe u würzburškim kasarnama došao sam na frontu koja se u to vrijeme već bila pomakla preko Rajne u Njemačku. Četa je bila sastavljena iz samih mladih ljudi, bilo nas je preko stotinu. Jedne večeri komandir čete poslao me prenijeti jednu poruku u komandu bataljona. Noću sam lutao razorenim selima i majurima, a kad sam se pred jutro našao na mjestu gdje sam ostavio svoju četu, našao sam još samo mrtvace: četu je pregazio kombinirani napad lovaca-bombardera i tenkova. Svima njima, s kojima sam još dan ranije dijelio dječje tjeskobe i mladenački smijeh, sada sam mogao gledati još samo ugasli mrtvi obraz. Ne sjećam se ničega doli jednog krika bez glasa. I danas još vidim samoga sebe tako, a iza spomena na to raspali su se snovi mojega djetinjstva.

preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past. Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to hope for, that I may not go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place.

Quando mi voltai, mi trovai dinanzi a una figura avvolta in una cappa nera, lunga fino ai piedi. Urlai, indietreggiando per lo spavento. Mi scontrai involontariamente contro un quadro, facendolo cadere con un tonfo. Sentii il rumore del vetro che si rompeva in mille pezzi. - Il buio vi proteggerà, Poe - disse l'ombra con una voce roca che graffiava i timpani. Non pensavo che sarebbe ritornato. Non stasera.

Pretty doll," rasped the dark haired vampire as he went about behind her, and she could feel his ravenous hunger practically radiating off him.

Psychic change, as Todorov has recognized, subverted the genre in another way, by revoking the cultural taboos, the social censorship, that had prohibited the overt treatment of psychosexual themes, which then found covert expression in the supernatural tale. 'There is no need today to resort to the devil [or to posthumous reverie] in order to speak of excessive sexual desire, and none to resort to vampires in order to designate the attraction exerted by corpses: psychoanalysis, and the literature which is directly or indirectly inspired by it, deal with these matters in undisguised terms. The themes of fantastic literature have become, literally, the very themes of the psychological investigations of the last fifty years.

Questa volta la voce non venne dalla luna. Questa volta venne da sotto il letto.

Quote of non fiction “I peered hard, trying to make out what was perched, as the realization of the most Gothic and brutal of horrors bound right through my body in an instant once I realized what we were seeing! We were looking at the dead bodies of Ned and Amanda! Hoisted as in byzantine ritual, his eyes shut and body motionless, her body naked and unmolested, her head missing in the night air as a group surrounded them on the ground below! “Oh god!” I said, my voice and body quivering. “My God! They’ve got bodies hanging up in the air!” Harold said as he tried to reconcile what he was looking at before flooring the vehicle and barreling toward the on ramp! Jess stood beside Nathaniel Williams, at the foot of the bodies, laughing wildly! The throws and pitch of her voice penetrating the vehicle, as we passed, as in a chant mocking of the horror that we were witnessing in modern times! Her hair was blowing wildly in the wind and her eyes menaced the shear vice of evil as Nathaniel looked on with curious intent in our charging direction! “They should not get far I would suppose, but we shall see. I do think my better arrangements of decency hope they escape, but then again I’m not decent!” he extolled as he watched the vehicle move out of sight and onto the interstate with Jess laughing and shouting words of irreverence next to him.

Rap un zeal' Demon within. I might as well put up a giant 'Come and Get Eaten' sign for the good those warning runes do.

Rain turned to ice, and lightning splintered, it spliced the black sky, it seeped a bright white. All animals they fled, from the sky as it bled, pale death that fell veiling the night.

Raven shook her head more violently and opened her mouth, a loud shriek filled the room and Amari realised what was about to happen, she ducked down and wrapped her arms around her head, just as the mirror shattered over her

Readers love fantasy, but we need horror. Smart horror. Truthful horror. Horror that helps us make sense of a cruelly senseless world.

Reality is shaped by the forces that destroy it.

Read my book and you shall know thee

Reality—there’s nothing but horror in that.

Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.

Regress towards progress - Dr Wannamaker

Remember. Observe, assess and act. No hesitation. No remorse.

Ricky skidded his car into a fishtail and lined up behind Edward’s patrol car. He wasn’t sure what they were doing either, but he figured it had something to do with General Custer’s last stand at Little Big Horn.

Remember that if I were born of the underworld, you were born of flowers. You are the blood the forest feeds upon, and it is you who gave the woods their dark magic. Time doesn’t exist, and in another world I never left you. I’ve transformed your wounds into a scepter for a queen. The nightcatcher may think that she’s had her victory - but your veins are buried in the map of the earth and she can never have you. She thinks she can own the universe because she’s enslaved gods and eaten stars, but she couldn’t even kill me, living here in her tunnels, because you protected me with your love.

Richard felt about as conspicuous as a foreskin at a Jewish nudist camp.

Right now I can't even control my own imagination as it grips my hair and drags me into the dark

Roll. Tap. Tap. Tap

Sanctum, a holy or sacred place. What could be more sacred than possessing the power of your own true thoughts? Sanctum. It is both lock and key.

Run, sweetheart, run.

Salt waters shall be found in the sweet, and all friends shall destroy one another; then shall wit hide itself, and understanding withdraw itself into his secret chamber-

Sad-looking brown eyes, they wrenched his heart like a gut punch. Worse – hell, worse – a bloke could punch him in the head but he’d stay up, and grin through the bloody split lip, intimidating his attacker; but there was no honour in wounds inside, wounds that only you could deal with.

Saw... then The Cube and many other films which I have saw or I will be on the way to see are brutal. But as far as last which as for now I have watched is Old 37, it's very brutal. Unfortunately, I will call this film or I will add that there are facts out there which show that it's based on true stuff. There are outside such type of people which do such thing, that you haven't saw. Feel happy, if you see them you won't go back you should run.

Rushing out the door on his way back to the street, he ran into someone with his shoulder. Turning to apologize to them, he stopped, horrified at what he saw. It was the white-eyed man he’d met a week ago. “Watch your back.” He said standing there just long enough for Raven to take in the meat between his teeth, the milky, nearly opaque color of his eyes and the madness within them. Then, after only a few seconds, he was gone, vanished into the crowd as if he had never existed. Certain his mind was playing tricks and tired of being terrified for his sanity, he headed down the street as fast as he could in pursuit. As he rushed through the tightly packed crowd, he saw others like the man he’d just seen, and each of their white eyes gazed blankly into his. A woman here, a hunched drifter there, shapes and faces that shifted and darted all around him. “Watch your back.” They hissed, and he tried to move faster, his heart racing and the nerves of his body jangling painfully with fear as he fought to get beyond them. Hands reached out for his clothes, pulling him in different directions as they tugged and he struggled to be free. Their fingers felt like talons clasped into the folds and gaps of his clothing, ripping and popping stitches in their fervor to gain some small grasp on his flesh beneath his jacket. Along with the horror of their cold, dead eyes, he could smell some strangeness—a sickly sweet smell of rot and decay only barely closeted by preserving fluids. The smell dug into his sinuses as their fingers and hands dug at him. He gagged, his teeth clenched tight as he exerted energy he didn’t really have. He pushed away from them and on through the empty space he saw at the end of this group of pedestrians. Many of whom mingled with what he now felt must be the dead, wholly unaware of why he flailed and pushed against them.

Sal turned, an eye stalk hanging from his teeth.

Sandy’s was one of those places that made poor, white trash feel like high-class consumers. This was the kind of place you’d take your mistress to, but never your wife. Wives expected better. Mistresses were impressed by the blandness of the over-priced wine and the vast Italian menu options.

Sanity, however, was so integral to his character that neither hysteria nor horror could long have their way with him.