Best 2148 quotes in «horror quotes» category

I assure you, if Uncle Henry had stepped out from among the trees in a little copse which borders the path at one place, carrying his head under his arm, I should have been very little more uncomfortable than I was. To tell you the truth, I was rather expecting something of the kind.

I been starin' at the back a Jimmy Nelson's head for four grades now and I been noticin' how his blond hair curls against the skin on his neck and the birthmark shaped like a half-moon I wanna press my fingernail into.

I believe,' Muswell once said, 'that mental isolation is the essence of weird fiction. Isolation when confronted with disease, with madness, with horror and with death. These are the reverberations of the infinity that torments us. ("The White Hands")

I believe that you believe that. But this thing, whatever it is, it's tricky. Manipulative. A liar. And it's smarter than you." "I'll try not to be offended by that." "You shouldn't be." “What do you think it is?” “Something very old and very evil.

I Believe When People Go To Hell, They Relive Their Worst Life Experience, Over And Over Again.

I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.

I beseech thee, O Lord, let me have understanding: For it was not my mind to be curious of the high things, but of such as pass by us daily.

I blast out the ghastly contents of philosophically whited sepulchers and laugh with sardonic wrath! Compton

I CALL on world believers of righteousness to wage 'all-out war' on the World Government, the infidels...

I can bear to tell you no more— only that they comforted each other as well as they could, and, as you probably know from your own bitter experience, that is never quite good enough.

I can also speak to small woodland creatures,” he grins at me.

I Can See Nothing But The Bottom Sides of Her Shoes, And Then All Became Ample Dark.

I cannot breathe, or see, nor swim, My darkness is composed of him.

I can’t believe this is happening. My best friend is dead. Zombies are real??? The whole city is going to burn and we’re going to die!

I can't be yours forever, Mab," I told her, the words flying into my mouth as if by magic. "I already belong to someone else. I belong to Alice!

I can see your dirtypillows.

I can smell your blood now. I can smell it in every room of the house.

I can't help thinking that somewhere in the vast universe, there has to be something better than man - Has to be.

I can't imagine you give apologies, Ten had said before, and she'd been right, but Liraz thought that she would now, She would apologize for Savvath. If her voice was her own. If it wasn't reeling out of her, rising and falling in a sound that might have been laughter and might-if she weren't Liraz and it weren't unthinkable-have been sobbing. In truth, it was both. She was going to lose her arms, the clean way or the less clean, and here's where the laughter came in: It was horrific, and it was sadistic, and it was also, literally, a dream come true.

I can't believe that she's questioning the existence of magic when she's standing before me dead and talking.

I can’t believe it.’ I whispered. ‘You can’t let him lure you back in, Felicia. He’s wrong. He’s wrong!’ Vanian pleaded, I could feel the quiver of his magic, the wisps that were fighting against the iron burning into his wrists, I could feel the crackle as it fought in the air, against his emotions, against his pain. I shook my head, was about to speak but Adam grabbed him by the front of his shirt; as if a few more tears and shreds couldn’t go amiss. The tightness of his grip paled the Faerie’s cheeks, caused the blood to trickle down faster, dropping to the floor. ‘My wife.’ He yelled, ‘She’s my wife, silverblood.’ With each growl of a syllable he accented it with a punch to Vanian’s face. I couldn’t take much more. I jumped over and pulled at Adam’s shoulders, fingertips driving into the nook of his collarbone, pressing down with as much as I had in me, anything to break his hold. He recoiled and rose his hand to me, at first I flinched but I stopped. He wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t.

I can’t believe our entire tour is being taken out, one by one, all because of some stupid virus. We’ll probably all be dead by the time the day tour starts.

I can’t change my past, nobody can, I can make my future better

I carry out sun rituals on the slopes of high mountains. But I am also taboo for myself, untouchable because forbidden.

I can’t!” Maggie was now standing on the wall. “Past the boundary wall is a bad place. I’m not allowed in the bad place.

I come not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

I confessed I did not have an opinion; I was only thirteen, and this was my very first dismemberment.

I'd ask my parents to leave the door open just a little bit so I wouldn't be stuck in the prison of my bedroom and mind, the imaginary horrors barring me from entering dreamland.

I discovered news of old horrors in old books; read intelligence of old atrocities in old periodicals; always in the back of my mind, every day a bit louder, I heard the seashell drone of some growing, coalescing force; I seemed to smell the bitter ozone aroma of lightings-to-come.

I didn't panic until my chest collapsed and I couldn't breathe. I gasped until I no longer had a throat to do it with. I didn't feel like I was holding my breath - it was more like I had no lungs.

I didn't want to be the woman who gave herself over willingly to the first man to notice her. I didn't want to be the stupid girl in every novel who loved without question and entered relationships that didn't make sense.

I'd like to be a handsome corpse. At my funeral, I'd like people to look in my coffin and say, "Wow. He's so handsome when he's dead!" I guess it'd be kind of okay, too, if they made my books required reading in schools or something, but as far as leaving a legacy goes, I just want to be the hottest cadaver in the graveyard.

I'd like to be a handsome corpse. At my funeral, I'd like people to look in my coffin and say, "Wow. He's so handsome when he's dead!" I guess it'd be kind of okay, too, if they made my books required reading in schools or something, but mostly, I just want to be the hottest cadaver in the graveyard.

I don't believe in curses, you know. Nor in ghosts or anything precisely supernatural. But I do believe that emotions and events have a certain...lingering resonance. It may be that emotions can even communicate themselves in certain circumstances, if the circumstances are peculiar enough...the way a carton of milk will take the flavour of certain strongly spiced foods if it's left open in the refrigerator.

I don't complain about the horror of life; I complain about the horror of my life. The only fact I worry about is that I exist and suffer and can't even dream of being removed from my feeling of suffering.

I don't believe in monsters." "Well, Red, I think you might want to start." Pike turned and looked him in the eye. "What do you think those green things were? And what do you think is trying to smash its way in here? A pony?

I don’t know how these things died without benefit of a bullet to the brain pan. They seemed to exist in an eternal twilight of longing.

I don't know how the Wolfman knows all this, but he's not wrong. My warm cheeks turn scalding hot. "Your shame is a good sign. You may break sooner than I thought. The breaking is good. It purifies.

I don't know if ghouls are allowed to live either. But there has to be a reason we exist.

I don't know where we are, but we'll soon find our way home!" Le avventure di Pinocchio

I don't have expensive tastes – just bloody ones. – Vampire Dragul Mangorian

I don't imagine book elitists as my audience when writing. I dream about teachers, morticians and garbage men instead.

I don’t know. How can you know? I…I’m a monster. When I’m hungry, I might do anything." "Oh no, of course I couldn’t possibly understand you." Violet’s shadowed face seemed to be wearing a grim and serious smile. "I know, you woke up one day and found out that you couldn’t be the person you remembered being, the little girl everybody expected you to be. You just weren’t her any more, and there was nothing you could do about it. So your family decided you were a monster and turned on you." Violet sighed, staring out into the darkness. "Believe me, I do understand that. And let me tell you - from one monster to another - that just because somebody tells you you’re a monster, it doesn’t mean you are. "just now you told me what you did because you want me to stop you from eating Pen. If you were a real monster, you wouldn’t have done that, would you?" Trista’s eyes stung, and she wiped strands of cobweb away with her sleeve. "Idiot," added Violet, for good measure.

I don't remember ever signing up for weird. It just sort of happened.

If blood can produce money through rituals or the so-called human sacrifice, then it is the basis on which we live, so it is very essential to save and protect it from the fiendish eyes of blood sucking predators.

I don’t want to die fighting a losing battle.

I exhort you only to one thing, that you rise up for Allah's sake by twos and simply; then ponder! There is no madness in your companion. He is only a warner to you before a severe chastisement.

I feel a blood moon rising" Neesa

If dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?

I feel that I was possessed…possessed by demons; those who are and always are going to be, they are inviting me, they desire me and they live because of me…