Quotes About Ghosts

Great. So if I saw a guy standing still, and he wasn't wearing an old uniform, I just had to ask him to walk through furniture. If he stared at me like I was crazy, then I'd know he wasn't a ghost. - Chloe

Let's just say that being able to contact ghosts makes for some very interesting ménages á trios… and ménages á quartre, and ménages á … whatever five is in French. ~Jaime Vegas

I could shave my head and wear a sackcloth and still get a whole lot of ghostly wrong numbers. Makes me wonder if there's some kind of ghost-necro porn industry down there. ~Jaime Vegas

She barreled down the steps toward us, and gave me a passing lick before jumping on Rafe. He pushed her down, laughing. "See, I am real," he said. "Hmm, still not sure," I said. "Dogs are supposed to be able to see ghosts, you know.

There are stories about winter ghosts found tangles like lice in their lovers' hair.

Little of God, then a little of ghosts, is that it, bub?" as though our unfortunate argument were forgotten. "Well . . . keep a tight hold on it.

When a relationship dies do we ever really give up the ghost or are we forever haunted by the spirits of relationships past?

Big beasties, swordplay, aliens, guns, ghosts, vampires, eldritch things from beyond and slime. A lot of slime.

For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; At whose approach ghosts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards.... For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully exile themselves from light, And must for aye consort with black brow'd night.

His claim to his home is deep, but there are too many ghosts. He must absorb without being absorbed.

There are ghosts asleep inside every one of us: arcane issues never addressed, ancient griefs never laid to rest, suspicions, self-doubts, banished longings, secret meanings.

If you've actually seen a ghost—and I assure you that you probably have, within the last month—it would have just looked like any real, solid person. It's likely nobody saw that person but you and no, you can't photograph them. You're not seeing them with your eyes.

People can attach themselves to something--an idea, another person, a desire--with an impossibly strong grip, and in the case of restless ghosts, a grip stronger than death. Will is a powerful thing. Will--it's supposed to be a good treat, a more determined and persistent version of determination and persistence. But will and obsession--they sit right next to each other. They pretend to be strangers and all the while meet secretly at midnight." -

Ah, yes, choice. I chose to let my ghosts stay in past. Past is history you know. Living is now. I sat. I breathed. I let past go. I let future go. I am. That is all.

Thoughts are ghosts of emotions.

Ghosts sit in my mouth and sing.

But the truth was what Silvina had seen: we were already ghosts. We just kept haunting each other for no reason. Even as we kept awaiting the mortal blow. But there would be no mortal blow, just endless depths.

My loneliness began to be filled with ghosts. That is the worst thing about loneliness, how easily it becomes filled.

So far we have had a séance, with spirit possession, a White Lady walking by night, a perambulating suit of armor, a diabolical character in a black cloak, and even a semi-dead man with a look of stark staring horror. It isn't even good horror fiction; it's straight out of The Mysteries of Udolpho. By some straining of the brain I could believe in ghosts; but I can't believe in a ghost that acts like Terror Comics.

It is, alas, chiefly the evil emotions that are able to leave their photographs upon surrounding scenes and objects," the other added, "and who ever heard of a place haunted by a noble deed, or of beautiful and lovely ghosts revisiting the glimpses of the moon? It is unfortunate. But the wicked passions of men's hearts alone seem strong enough to leave pictures that persist; the good are ever too luke-warm.

Now that he's up on his feet he is hungry. Can you be hungry and dead? Course you can, all those hungry ghosts eating people's hearts and minds.

There is something about the South that accepts the supernatural. If you don't accept it and you're having a conversation with someone who does, it's just one of those polite things where you don't question their belief in ghosts. You just go, 'Oh, yeah, okay.' It's amazing to be able to have conversations like that.

Of course I believe in ghosts. I just don't think they'd waste their time haunting an Island where no one ever goes.

Standing on Abiram Stein's front steps, facing the street, Kat felt very different from when she'd stood in that same spot forty minutes earlier, facing the door. Suspicions were facts. Fears were real. And ghosts were alive as she stood where her mother had once stood, unsure how to follow in her footsteps.