Best 15 quotes in «chilling quotes» category

A voice called out, cold as chloroform and old shame.

And it must have been then, they caught him all unaware, and lured him away with haunting melodies of earth, ancient and long remembered, of pagan mysteries, and the gossamer fine edge of the gifts they tendered. They extracted a promise, I feel sure they did, and their secret purpose, they hid, they hid.

A trivial thing, for a teenage boy to be colour-blind, not uncommon or noteworthy, unless it simply, unalterably, thwarted everything.

Fear of night. Fear of not night.

Chilling Tales For Dark Nights, these people or let's say these team is trying to return the fear, the theater... Which so far is great to hear, acting in reading a story and everything one place, just awesome,

I can just close my eyes and let myself fall into oblivion. Maybe I'll hit the exact same rocks and my blood will mingle with his and maybe there's some kind of life after death and he's waiting for me there with his hand outstretched just like mine. But... I don't want to die. I try to twist my body backwards and pain shoots up my neck. It's too late. I chose life too late.

If you can’t build with them, don’t chill with them

I went up to the tower. I thought I might find the woman and the boy there, in bed together. Or the boy and his father, enjoying some quality time, a dead man and a mad boy chuckling and joshing and exchanging their stories of being dead and being mad.

The comfort was peculiarly chilling.

What life can you create when those activities spent “killing” or “wasting” time were put into the quest for a better you? What would your life be like if instead of “chilling and net flicks” you devoted time to wellness and thinking? A much better life awaits you with some simple choices, backed by intentional actions.

Whoever coined the phrase '"I can work well under pressure" should be put on trial for crimes against Humanity.

My ability to make up lies on the spot chills me as much as it saves me.

The chill, like scurrying spiders, worked deeper into him, weaving webs of ice in the hollows of his bones.

The ghouls leered at her, unbreathing, their flesh crisply necrotic like rice paper pressed over old oozing wounds.

The steps behind us resumed- a cautious brush against the leaves, a shifting branch- and after a while, utter silence. Even the wind seemed to pause its gentle tease through the leaves. And then a growl tore through the darkness.