Best 2148 quotes in «horror quotes» category

Il paese di Verulengo si estende come un serpente in provincia di Verona, lungo la strada provinciale 9a." Incipit.

Il suo sguardo, spento e lucido, si volse semi-febbricitante verso il tavolo. «Ma questa è la regola! Se la deve guadagnare!» La sua mano stavolta ebbe un sussulto, mentre fissava con un accenno di lacrime e frenesia la fotografia.

Il terrore non è niente, se non è accompagnato da qualcosa di visibilmente orribile. Non riesce a entrare sotto pelle in maniera disgustosa se non c’è niente in grado di nutrire la mente.

…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.

I’m afraid they’re not coming.” Abby said fearfully. “Our parents, our teachers – everyone! They’ve disappeared. That’s it. Lights out, Shelly. We’re on our own.

Imagine being just strong enough to remember what life was like, feeling things, your heartbeat, the world around you. And imagine you couldn’t have it anymore, couldn’t even properly remember it, but there was just enough that some deep part of you knew what you were missing. Wouldn’t you do anything to get it back, if it was right there for the taking? Wouldn’t you be willing to kill for it?

Imagine yourself taking a stroll through Manhattan, somewhere north of 68th street, deep inside Central Park, late at night. It would be nice to meet someone friendly, but you know that the park is dangerous at night. That's when the monsters come out. There's always a strong undercurrent of drug dealings, muggings, and occasional homicides. It is not easy to distinguish the good guys from the bad guys. They dress alike, and the weapons are concealed. The only difference is intent, and you can't read minds. Stay in the dark long enough and you may hear an occasional distance shriek or blunder across a body. How do you survive the night? The last thing you want to do is shout, "I'm here!" The next to last thing you want to do is reply to someone who shouts, "I'm a friend!" What you would like to do is find a policeman, or get out of the park. But you don't want to make noise or move towards a light where you might be spotted, and it is difficult to find either a policeman or your way out without making yourself known. Your safest option is to hunker down and wait for daylight, then safely walk out. There are, of course, a few obvious differences between Central Park and the universe. There is no policeman. There is no way out. And the night never ends.

I make my way to her table, seeing her eyes growing wider as I do. Ten or so other girls probably just developed instantaneous crushes on me, because they see Carmel likes me. Or so the sociologist in my brain says.

I’m an old man, now. I’ve been alone since my 17th birthday. I’d wanted to marry, have a bunch of kids, and maybe be a grandpa. The big family around the Thanksgiving table, laughing and pouring wine and cracking jokes and harmlessly teasing the missus—I wanted that. I wanted to do something good with my life—something right. I didn’t want what happened to Danny, my best childhood friend, to be the only mark I’d ever make in this world. But I thought it best not to fancy such hopes and dreams: a family, love. I’d been cursed by my best friend, and I thought it right not to inflict that curse on anyone who’d be foolish enough to love me.

I'm a man born to blood and pain, and peace would be a killing blow for me.

I'm a man of few words, most of them end in off!

I'm an art major. You're a political science major. YOU go lay down the law.

I'm being haunted," she blurted out. "My dear," he cooed. "Turn yourself into a tourist attraction and charge admission.

I mean I would never do that. I just think it. Does this make me a bad person?” “You are only a bad person if you do bad things,” said the second anchor. “Thank you.” “That’s not an acquittal, Diane. The counterpoint is that you are only a good person if you do good things.

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

I'm electric with vertigo, even though I'm on the ground, vertigo like I felt once when I stood on the edge of a high cliff in Arizona and looked straight down.

I'm giving serious thought into eating yor wife” - Hannibal Lecter

I’m haunted. We all are, I guess. We’re parentless, friendless, unloved, abandoned. The spirits of our deceased emotional anchors and proofs of existence will follow and demean us until we too roam a quiet lifeless world alongside them — unable to speak — our histories written in beach sand.

I'm guessing you're tits deep in a horror novel. Something by Laymon, or Ketchum, or one of those sick fucks you read.

I’m not a bad person.

I'm more interested in the mystery - the quiet horror. Personally, I'm far more intrigued by the creak of the floorboard than the ax-weilding madman.

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

I'm not here to change the world, just your perception of it.

I'm not giving up my life. My life began when I met you.

I'm not gonna die alone, no way! He will never allow it!

I'm not the protagonist of a novel or anything... I'm just a normal college student who likes to read... But... If I were to write a book with me as the main character... It would be... ...A tragedy.

I'm not the protagonist of a novel or anything... I'm just a normal college student who likes to read... But... If I were to write a book with me as tge main character... It would be... ...A tragedy.

I'm psychologically equipped for this.

I'm sixteen with what I hope will be a long life ahead, but I'm willing to give it up, to give anything to let her live, to let her make it through the night.

I’m supposed to feel like it’s such a great apartment, but I don’t. It’s the right price, there are no bugs and it’s got a great view, but it’s the lair of Satan...--Nil Caveat

In an age of rust, she comes up stainless steel

I'm sure that the book is incrediable, phenomenal and so on and so on going in positive direction... But the film wasn't made well (I'm talking about NeedFul Things by Stephen King), the effects weren't good, some scenes were missed, for example I'm very curiouis how does the guy kills his wife with the harmer... The scene reminds me for Shining, but Unfortunately in the Shining there were more possibilities to be saw this scene, than in this film... If some disadvantages will be fixed, then I'm sure that the film will be pretty interesting, however to don't forget about the quality!

I'm sorry!" Piggy cried, knowing for certain now that he could never return. That he had a promise to keep in the freezing current below. And swerving away from his advancing father, from his mother, from Charlie Volchek too, all of whose cries he imagined he heard carried on the wind, he shouted to Sam to wait for him, that he was coming. Then, in one soaring swoop, he flew out after her through empty space and thought with blinding clarity as he fell: So this is what love comes to.

In a way, Darius brings the vampire back to a more classical interpretation. A modern day Dracula who is charming, sensual, and completely monstrous. There is no pretense of humanity with him. He considers himself a member of a species that is the true apex predator of the world, feeding on humans and using them as puppets for their own bizarre games. He's not struggling with any inner angst. Most humans are either food, entertainment, or useful tools to him. Sometimes all three. He finds the modern popular interpretation of vampires both amusing and useful for his own agenda.

I'm sorry I didn't believe you, babe," he whispered to the twisted corpse.

In any event, whether a supernatural tale remains altogether fantastic or eventually modulates to the uncanny or the marvelous, the reader is faced with disconcerting ontological and perceptual problems. Indeed, the disorienting effect of the supernatural encounter in fiction seems to reflect some deeper disorientations in the culture at large.

In a moment of instant clarity, Gary realized that he was about to see exactly what his insides were made of. And he wasn’t afraid. He was curious.

Incipit del nuovissimo romanzo thriller drammatico "BRANDELLI D'ANIMA", disponibile già in formato ebook in tutti gli store online e presto anche in cartaceo. Buona lettura a tutti

I nearly forced my own way through the undergrowth to leave the sight behind. I was afraid I'd encouraged the figure to advance by trying to see it, perhaps even by thinking about it. ("The Long Way")

I never said you had to like it. You have to accept it. No regret. - Claire Harding - Boone Holler

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

I never considered myself a horror author until I got published and the powers that be told me that's what I was. I just write and don't concern myself with what category the publishers and bookstores decide to sell my books in.

I never saw a dollar bill cry at anyone's funeral.

I never said you had to like it. You have to accept it. No regret." - Clare Harding From the current book in writing BUMPKIN by Lani Brown.

Infants never learn to soothe themselves to sleep. They learn, abandoned in seclusion, that no matter the volume of their despondence, no matter the force of their tears, when they are alone and frightened, no-one will ever come to their rescue. Infants do not soothe themselves. They merely surrender. And it is caged in their cribs where the infants learn, in the face of their demons, to remain silent and submitting.

Infames pensamientos convirtiéronse en mis íntimos; los más sombríos, los más infames de todos los pensamientos. La tristeza de mi humor de costumbre se acrecentó hasta hacerme aborrecer a todas las cosas y a la Humanidad entera.

In hundreds of years of wish fulfillment, never once to the demon’s bereavement, had a wish gone unable to be yielded. It was love this day, which defeated the curse, and there in Hell there was little worse, than the dark forces of evil gone unwielded.

Inevitably, his vision verged toward the fantastic; he published a scattering of stories - most included in this volume - which appeared to conform to that genre at least to the degree that the fuller part of his vision could be seen as "mysteries." For Woolrich it all was fantastic; the clock in the tower, hand in the glove, out of control vehicle, errant gunshot which destroyed; whether destructive coincidence was masked in the "naturalistic" or the "incredible" was all pretty much the same to him. RENDEZVOUS IN BLACK, THE BRIDE WORE BLACK, NIGHTMARE are all great swollen dreams, turgid constructions of the night, obsession and grotesque outcome; to turn from these to the "fantastic" was not to turn at all. The work, as is usually the case with a major writer was perfectly formed, perfectly consistent, the vision leached into every area and pulled the book together. "Jane Brown's Body" is a suspense story. THE BRIDE WORE BLACK is science fiction. PHANTOM LADY is a gothic. RENDEZVOUS IN BLACK was a bildungsroman. It does not matter.

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.

Iniquity shall be increased above that which now thou see, or that thou hast heard long ago.