Quotes from Clive Barker

Houses weren't haunted, only human minds.

Hate remembered though; hate remembered long after love had forgotten

Well, she's lucky. She still has her little dominion here in Coldheart Canyon.

I lived, I suppose, in a cell of my own creation, while outside its walls lay a landscape of unparalleled richness. But I could not bear to venture there. In my self-delusion I thought I was a minor king, and I didn't want to step beyond the bounds of what I knew for fear I lost my dominion.

There's no delight the equal of dread.

Forgive yourself,' Boone said. 'I did.

way, is music. I hear that longing in countless pieces: in Barber's Adagio, in the "In Paradisum" from the Fauré Requiem, in the "Liebestod" from Tristan and Isolde; in Max Steiner's film scores, in folk songs like "Blow the Wind Southerly" and "Shenandoah

Somos nuestros propios cementerios; nos instalamos entre las tumbas de las personas que éramos.

Certaines étoiles mettent plus de temps que d'autre à apparaître. Le paradoxe est le suivant : plus il fait nuit, plus ces secrets deviennent visibles. Pour finir, ils se déploient dans toute leur splendeur ; et ce sont ces choses même que nous dissimulons, ces choses dont nous avons le plus honte, dont nous nous servons pour nous guider.

Your most treasured depravity is child's play beside the experiences we offer.

If you were alone on earth, what would you know? What the mirror told you, that's all. The rest would be myth and conjecture.

As Harry marveled, the Cenobite continued his brutal effort of making new adjustments to his own flesh so as to fit the Devil's suit: first a slice off his other hip, down to the red meat; then up to his arms, slicing away the flesh at the back of his triceps; and passing the knife from left hand to right and back again, cutting effortlessly with either. The area around his feet looked like the floor of a butcher's store. Cobs and slices of fatty meat were scattered everywhere.

You cut up a thing that's alive and beautiful to find out how it's alive and why it's beautiful and before you know it, it's neither of those things, and you're standing there with blood on your face and tears in your sight and only the terrible ache of guilt to show for it.

New York was just a city. He had seen her wake in the morning like a slut, and pick murdered men from between her teeth, and suicides from the tangles of her hair.

Hayal edilen asla yitirilmez.

But then sanity was a movable feast, wasn't it? One man's madness might be another's politics.

but as his years advanced Lewis had seen less and less purpose in distinguishing between fact and fiction.

To every hour, its mystery. At dawn, the riddles of life and light. At noon, the conundrums of solidity. At three, in the hum and heat of the day, a phantom moon, already high. At dusk, memory. And at midnight? Oh, then the enigma of time itself; of a day that will never come again passing into history while we sleep. It

She knew he was telling the truth, the kind of unsavoury truth that only monsters were at liberty to tell. He had no need to flatter or cajole; he had no philosophy to debate, or sermon to deliver. His awful nakedness was a kind of sophistication. Past the lies of faith, and into purer realms.

Sounds to me like those nails are touching too much gray matter.

So you can't please all the people all the time. All you can do is what pleases you, and hope that it pleases other people. I love my readers, and I respect my readers, but I'm not going to simplify or echo myself, copy myself, just so the sales will be better.

The seasons long for each other, like men and women, in order that they may be cured of their excesses.

They looked, to all intents and purposes, like living men and women. But then wasn't that the trick of their craft? To imitate life so well the illusion was indistinguishable from the real thing?

Brooding only looks good in the movies.