Quotes About Ghosts

A ground mist, morning white, hid all but a suggestion of landscape. A dreamer could imagine green fields might be there, trees with leaves, even animals moving slowly over the grass. Concentrate hard enough and the smell of living plants might be conjured up. A psychic could probably manage it, someone good with ghosts. Leila Saatchi knew better.

Only the patron families in Sacramante were aware of more intimate needs, as predators for obvious reasons. To other humans, any creature needing to feed on their ichor for survival were simply legends; no more real to them than faeries and ghosts.

He did not want to believe in ghosts, and he feared his own madness.

It was a pod of spinner dolphins, forty or fifty animals, swimming toward me. They materialized from the ocean like ghosts, shimmering in the ether.

Throughout the shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, no figure so dreaded and abhorred, yet dight with such fearful fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghost nor demon, but yet who partakes the dark natures and and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both.

until that moment I had not understood that this was a story about lonely people, about absence and loss, and that that was why I had taken refuge in it until it became confused with my own life, like someone who has escaped into the pages of a novel because those whom he needs to love seem nothing more than ghosts inhabiting the mind of a stranger.

I imagined Julián Caraxat my age, holding that image in his hands, perhaps in the shade of the same tree that now sheltered me. I could almost see him smiling confidently, contemplating a future as wide and luminous as that avenue, and for a moment I thought there were no more ghosts there than that of absence and loss that the light that smiled on me was borrowed light, real only as long as I could hold it in my eyes, second by second.

e por um instante pensei que não havia ali mais fantasmas que os da ausência e da perda,e que aquela luz que me sorria era de empréstimo e só valia enquanto a pudesse segurar com o olhar,segundo a segundo.

And for a moment I thought there were no more ghosts there than those of absence and loss, and that the light that smiled on me was borrowed light, only real as long as I could hold it in my eyes, second by second.

I had not understood that this was a story about lonely people, about absence and loss, and that that was why I had taken refuge in it until it became confused with my own life, like someone who has escaped into the pages of a novel because those whom he needs to love seem nothing more than ghosts inhabiting the mind of a stranger.

there were no more ghosts there than those of absence and loss

VENTRESS: (MOCKING) Because, repeat after me, younglings, hate leads to suffering and suffering leads… KY NAREC: (GHOST) Yes? VENTRESS: To the dark side. Do you know what? Yes. Yes, it does. (TAKES A DRINK) And I for one like it here.

His eyes were still like caves with ghosts dwelling in their depths.

I love having my ghosts, and I love having my memories.

I've never had an actual haunting experience, in the way you might anticipate a ghost in a movie haunting someone, but I do feel presences around me all the time, and I do feel that memories haunt us the way ghosts haunt us or might haunt characters in a film.

When you talk about people being haunted or wrestling demons, that is a rich metaphor.

If we're feeding our suffering while we're walking, working, eating, or talking, we are making ourselves victims of the ghosts of the past, of the future, or our worries in the present. We're not living our lives.

I don't--know about ghosts, but I do know that our souls can be made to go outside our bodies when we are alive... A very easy way to feel 'em go is to lie on the grass at night, and look straight up at some big bright star; and by fixing your mind upon it you will soon find that you are hundreds and hundreds o' miles away from your body, which you don't seem to want at all.

There are savages without God in any proper sense of the word, but none without ghosts.

You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you've found life. I'm no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are 'yours' and which are 'mine.' It's past sorting out. Thomas Pynchon (Gravity's Rainbow pg 140)

and isn't it the curse of the drifter, the desolation of heart we feel each evening at sundown, with the slow loop of the river out there just for a half a minute, catching the last light, pregnant with the city in all its density and wonder, the possibilities never to be counted, much less lived into, by the likes of us, don't you see, for we're only passing through, we're already ghosts.

He was trying to tell me something.' Derek snorted. 'Aren't they all? Must be a rule in the ghost handbook—if in danger of evaporating, make sure you're in the middle of a dire pronouncement.

Must be a rule in the ghost handbook—if in danger of evaporating, make sure you're in the middle of a dire pronouncement.

My ghosts had become my teachers.