Quotes About Ghosts

You can have a silence full of words. A lute retains, in its bowl, the notes it has played. The viol, in its strings, holds a concord. A shriveled petal can hold its scent, a prayer can rattle with curses; an empty house, when the owners have gone out, can still be loud with ghosts.

You shouldn't believe in ghosts,' he says uncertainly. 'I don't,' Martian says. 'But who are they to care, if I believe in them or not?

The story of my own childhood is a complicated sentence that I am always trying to finish, to finish and put behind me. It resists finishing, and partly this is because words are not enough; my early world was synesthetic, and I am haunted by the ghosts of my own sense impressions, which reemerge when I try to write, and shiver between the lines.

MURRY: I believe in a lot of things. Santa Claus, magic, vampires, and even ghosts but I don't believe in luck. Good or bad.

Behind the abandoned house, two faerie horses chew on dandelions as they wait for their riders. Slight as deer, with a soft halo of light surrounding their bodies, they glide between the trees like ghosts. Oak goes to the first. Her coat a soft grey, her mane braided into something that looks like netting, and which is hung with gold beads. Tooled leather saddlebags rest against her flanks. She nuzzles into his hand.

I did not want to spend the night on the lonely plain. I was afraid of ten thousand ghosts, and of the ogres and goblins that dwelled in the forest around it. The murmur of a stream sounded to me like the voice of the water spirit, and every time a fox barked or an owl hooted I came awake, my pulse racing.

There are stories about winter ghosts found tangled like lice in their lovers' hair. Dead people have no hair themselves, which is how they can be recognized in winter. But in summer, the living and dead may pass each other on the street, and no one knows the difference.

The birch trees loom ahead like a brotherhood of ghosts.

Ghost?" St. Vincent shot him an incredulous glance. "Christ. You're not serious, are you?" "I'm a Gypsy," Cam replied matter-of-factly. "Of course I believe in ghosts." "Only half Gypsy. Which led me to assume that the rest of you was at least marginally sane and rational." "The other half is Irish," Cam said a touch apologetically. "Christ," St. Vincent said again, shaking his head as he strode away.

Man has not really vanquished Shamanism and its spooks till he possesses the strength to lay aside not only the belief in ghosts or in spirits, but also the belief in the spirit.

There must be something ghostly in the air of Christmas — something about the close, muggy atmosphere that draws up the ghosts, like the dampness of the summer rains brings out the frogs and snails.

I can tell you that solitude Is not all exaltation, inner space Where the soul breathes and work can be done. Solitude exposes the nerve, Raises up ghosts. The past, never at rest, flows through it.

Nobody's ever proved that ghosts exist," said Christiana, striding determinedly toward the door.

Ghost stories really scare me. I have such a big imagination that after I watch a horror movie like 'The Grudge', I look in the corners of my room for the next two days.

For most of us, it is our fears and regrets which define the people we become; it is our fears which come back in the night, like ghosts, and which terrorise our lives. It is our regrets which interfere with our ambitions so that instead of looking forward we are forever peering over our shoulders at the past. Caleb and Bunty were so occupied with tomorrow that they never had time for yesterday. They had interests and enthusiasms galore.

If there are such things as ghosts," he replied, "I don't think they should be taken lightly. God would not permit them to be, except as a warning or a punishment.

Far as I'm concerned, they're all still here, like a lot of dear little ghosts.

Ghosts?' Said Mrs Verity. 'Why, good gracious, I could tel you a thing or two about ghosts. Believe in them? Well, what I always say is, we don't know the answers to everything, do we? I mean, there's some things in this world you can't explain and maybe we're not meant to.

Do You know what ghosts are, Stuey? I'll tell you. They're secrets haunting the memories of the living. So long as we carry their secrets, they refuse to leave. They wait." "Wait for what?" "To be forgotten. My father has been gone for sixty years, but" — he tapped the side of his head — "he's still here. He never left.

To live is to be haunted.

We are served by organic ghosts, he thought, who, speaking and writing, pass through this our new environment. Watching, wise, physical ghosts from the full-life world, elements of which have become for us invading but agreeable splinters of a substance that pulsates like a former heart.

But there had always been ghosts in the mountains, everyone knew that.

What's the secret commonwealth?" "The world of fairies, and ghosts, and the jacky lanterns.

The ghosts who had come with them were hurrying towards the town, so many that they looked like the grains of sand that trickle towards the hole of an hourglass