Best 2148 quotes in «horror quotes» category

All I heard was the foulest sounding wheeze imaginable, cut off by a wet chittering noise and a horrid emphysemic breathing. Why my head turned slowest now, I still don’t know, but as I set my eyes on the monitor, I struggled to believe it. Where my daughter once was, all I could see now was a black, curved mass, shiny and contorted. One that seemed to sway from side to side, those horrible sounds emanating from it.

All in all, he thought it was a bad idea to get involved with the woman investigating his ex's possible suicide with intent to haunt.

All’improvviso i loro sensi si fecero più attenti. Man mano che si addentravano nel quartiere, un formicolio sinistro li pizzicò alla base della nuca. Un presagio di morte, la puzza di marcio,l’olezzo del mondo infernale.

All of my chupacabra books are like novelizations of movies that haven’t been made yet.

All she could see was her demise and it called out a tempting ruse, offering a suffering less potent than what sickened the living.

All the cops were tied up trying to maintain control, but it was already lost.

All world believers of righteousness are required to pladge allegiance to Allah!

All world believers of righteousness are required to pledge allegiance to Allah!

Alone, even in a crowd. Dead, but able to touch and sense the living. Real, but intangible.

Aloha Oukou. It looked like your soul was escaping so I put you in a tree.

A long time ago, there was a little girl called Mary. Now Mary, she was warned several times not to go to her neighbor’s house. Her neighbor was a grandmother. But Mary hardly listened, so she snuck off one night to spy on her. She tried the front door first, and it creaked open. Then suddenly, she heard a squeaking noise upstairs. She followed it – climbed up the wooden stairs where half of it was already rotten. She heard the squeaking noise again. It was coming from the library. She opened the door and hid behind a couch. She peered out, and she saw the grandmother.” Dave paused to drain his cup of coffee before continuing. My heart thudded so loudly, I thought that everyone could hear it. “So Mary gasped in disbelief as she heard the squeaking noise again, and the grandmother’s rocking chair was not moving at all. Then the grandmother opened her eyes and looked directly at her, holding her gaze steadily and sharply, and then suddenly, BOO!

Also, in the dismal Cold Waste, any man treasures illusions, though knowing them almost certainly to be such.

Always just a brainstorm away from our next disaster...

Always Try And Be Kind To Other People - Especially Women And Children.

Amanda choked on a sob. She looked like she didn’t know what to do. For the first time, Stacey realized this woman was a human being, and sometimes she felt lost.

A man’s principles are his own. Man starts flip-flopping on what he believes based on outside influences and he may as well run for congress.

Amari swung around in her seat to look back and there was indeed a small girl sitting on the boundary wall. She didn’t seem to be looking at the car that had just passed but up ahead. Amari turned around to see what she was looking at and she saw it, up ahead, the farm house that she could only assume was their new home.

A memory can taint your dreams

Am I Dead?" Had she fallen to her doom and this was all an elaborate fantasy? Was this the place between life and death? Her eyes welled up with tears and she ran towards the man that wasn't there, wanting to cling to him, to find something to save her from this torture.

A moment of silence settled over all of them. Then Velva broke it. “We are the hunter and the haunter, the haunted and hunted.…” “But for what purpose?” asked Sir Sun. “It is all for the same purpose, Timothy.  The empty that wish to be full.

A monster crosses over into the everyday world. The mortals struggle and show great courage, but it’s no use. The monster kills first the guilty, then the innocent, until finally only one remains. The Last Boy, the Last Girl. There is a final battle. The Last One suffers great wounds, but in the final moment vanquishes the monster. Only later does he or she recognize that this is the monster’s final trick; the scars run deep, and the awareness of the truth grows like an infection. The Last One knows that the monster isn’t dead, only sent to the other side. There it waits until it can slip into the mundane world again. Perhaps next time it will be a knife-wielding madman, or a fanged beast, or some nameless tentacled thing. It’s the monster with a thousand faces. The details matter only to the next victims.

And fight them until there is no persecution, religion is only for Allah. But if they desist, then there should be no hostility except against the oppressors.

And in the echo of that gladness, horror blooms within me. In its own strange way, it's a horror as deep as any I've experienced so far. I've succeeded in taking another human hostage, in making him urinate on himself. I made a plan to torture someone, and then I carried it out, and it satisfied me to do so. As much hurt and hell as the Wolfman has caused, I don't want to be his judge and jury, his jailer and tormentor. I don't want to be that person. I want to be good. I don't want to fall into a big, black pit of darkness, because what if I can't get out?

And I'm thinking about the old man. He'll be pounding on the glass right about now... or maybe not now. Maybe in a while. But he'll be pounding and... will there be blood? I like to imagine so. Yes, I rather think there will be blood. Lots of blood. Blood in extraordinary quantities.

And I thought:History is like a horror story.

And I've learned to hit the brakes at these kinds of stop signs rather than t-boning a tanker truck filled with 200 proof mediocrity.

And maybe that is exactly what happened…he walked away and never woke up…

And on the day when We raise up a witness out of every nation, then permission (to offer excuse) will not be allowed to make amends.

And now the bad Mommy was here – outside his window. With a little whimper, he ran back to the bed, jumped in, and pulled the covers over his head. Good Mommy was gone now…and bad Mommy had come to eat him up.

And so, she turned her back on the abyss for another day.

And the bubbles of light again rose and fell, and in their disordered, irregular, turbulent maze, mingled with the wan moonlight. And now from these globules themselves as from the shell of an egg, monstrous things burst out; the air grew filled with them; larvae so bloodless and so hideous that I can in no way describe them except to remind the reader of the swarming life which the solar microscope brings before his eyes in a drop of water - things transparent, supple, agile, chasing each other, devouring each other - forms like nought ever beheld by the naked eye. As the shapes were without symmetry, so their movements were without order. In their very vagrancies there was no sport; they came round me and round, thicker and faster and swifter, swarming over my head, crawling over my right arm, which was outstretched in involuntary command against all evil beings. ("The House And The Brain")

And then I saw her, who I could have only assumed with Aura Tsang, a very petite women, with the exotic features of those you associate with an Asian background complete with slick dark hair but the most amazing piercing blue eyes, the type that any Aryan would have be proud of. She seemed to have the persona that made her a person of the world,Yet, there was the energy that she was giving off, a energy of a powerful and brave woman who could and would take on the world and yet she had the gentlest smile complete with dimples. I was transfixed by her and I felt that my heart would burst into a thousand of pieces if she spoke to me, which of course she would and it did.

And the wolf said, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and find your money, you shit-faced fucker…

And then, standing there in my Godzilla t-shirt, her blonde hair combed to the side, she says, “Supergirls stand together.” I had to say the rest, “Supergirls stay together.

and the wind gathered the leaves as a mother gathers her children and blew them irrevocably, lovingly, into the haunted wildness

And those who flee for Allah's sake after they are oppressed, We shall certainly give them a good abode in the world; and the reward of the Hereafter is much greater...

And when he had crossed the bridge, the phantoms came to meet him.

And whoever turns himself away from remembrance of the Beneficent, We appoint for him a devil so he is his associate.

And yet their reward appear not, and their labor had no fruit: for I have gone here and there through the heathen, and I see that they flow in wealth, and think not upon thy commandments.

And ye shall tread down the wicked; for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet in the day that I shall do this!

Anger, The spring of all life's horror. - Medea

An extreme fearfulness moves through all your body, and your mind is troubled more.

An innocent breath of life comes from the deep of all darkness! It just takes a moment, an instant and right after, everything becomes absolutely corrupted! The existence, the thought! I’ve lived in nothingness for eternities, I know, I have felt it, it was engraved in my soul. Although I cannot give faith and witness… I know; I’ve been in nothingness and from the nothingness I have returned..." An excerpt from the book: The Master Of Realities: The Labyrinth Of The Dead Souls

An icy gust of air rose from the open doors. Blackness. I cannot be locked in blackness. I cannot! And finally he screamed. He couldn't hold it back any longer. He screamed, the terrible cry begun before he was pushed forward, before he felt himself topple from the threshold, before he realized he was plunging down and down into the blackness, into the nothingness...

Animal violence. Child abuse. The devil made me do it. Senseless blood-spatter. Torture porn. These things can incite powerful reader response – but it isn’t the kind of response I want.

Another heaping portion of shitty life, please. And an extra order of I'll just go fuck myself then, too.

A number of years ago, when I was a freshly-appointed instructor, I met, for the first time, a certain eminent historian of science. At the time I could only regard him with tolerant condescension. I was sorry of the man who, it seemed to me, was forced to hover about the edges of science. He was compelled to shiver endlessly in the outskirts, getting only feeble warmth from the distant sun of science- in-progress; while I, just beginning my research, was bathed in the heady liquid heat up at the very center of the glow. In a lifetime of being wrong at many a point, I was never more wrong. It was I, not he, who was wandering in the periphery. It was he, not I, who lived in the blaze. I had fallen victim to the fallacy of the 'growing edge;' the belief that only the very frontier of scientific advance counted; that everything that had been left behind by that advance was faded and dead. But is that true? Because a tree in spring buds and comes greenly into leaf, are those leaves therefore the tree? If the newborn twigs and their leaves were all that existed, they would form a vague halo of green suspended in mid-air, but surely that is not the tree. The leaves, by themselves, are no more than trivial fluttering decoration. It is the trunk and limbs that give the tree its grandeur and the leaves themselves their meaning. There is not a discovery in science, however revolutionary, however sparkling with insight, that does not arise out of what went before. 'If I have seen further than other men,' said Isaac Newton, 'it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.

An Undergrounder is one who comes back after he’s or she’s—you know, under the ground.” Daniel’s green eyes flared again. “That isn’t supposed to happen.” Sir Sun nodded in agreement. “Most certainly not.

Another big mistake you women make, never underestimate the cunning of a killer

Answers are almost always insufficient. They are almost always misleading.