Quotes About Terror

I confess that I consider life to be a thing of the most untouchable deliciousness, and that even the confluence of so many disasters and deprivations, the exposure of countless fates, everything that insurmountably increased for us over the past few years to become a still rising terror cannot distract me from the fullness and goodness of existence that is inclined toward us.

Who, if I cried, would hear me among the angelic orders? And even if one of them suddenly pressed me against his heart, I should fade in the strength of his stronger existence. For beauty's nothing but the beginning of terror we're still just able to bear.

Let me put aside every desire, so that my heart grows used to its farthest spaces. Better that it live fully aware, in the terror of its stars, than as if protected, soothed by what is near.

Beauty is but the beginning of terror. We can barely endure it and are awed when it declines to destroy us.

Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror.

Perhaps every terror is, in its deepest essence, something that needs our recognition or help.

Each is liable to panic, which is, exactly, the terror of ignorance surrendered to the imagination.

True courage is not ostentatious; men who wish to inspire terror seem thereby to confess themselves cowards. Why do they rely on it, but because they know how potent it is with themselves?

This is the kind of life I've had. Drunk, and in charge of a bicycle, as an Irish police report once put it. Drunk with life, that is, and not knowing where off to next. But you're on your way before dawn. And the trip? Exactly one half terror, exactly one half exhilaration.

It was a simple thing. All terror is a simplicity. (Interval In Sunlight)

The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain.

Who knows what true happiness is, not the conventional word.. but the naked terror. To the lonely themselves, that wears a mask, the most miserable outcast hugs some memory.. or some illusion.

The fascination of the abomination.

Who knows what true loneliness is—not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.

The fascination of the abomination—you know.

He looked upon the immortal sea with the awakened and groping perception of its heartless might; he saw it unchanged, black and foaming under the eternal scrutiny of the stars; he heard its impatient voice calling for him out of a pitiless vastness full of unrest, turmoil, and of terror. He looked afar upon it, and he saw an immensity tortured and blind, moaning and furious, that claimed all the days of his tenacious life, and, when life was over, would claim the worn-out body of its slave...

He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision—he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath: "'The horror! The horror!

Captain MacWhirr had sailed over the surface of the oceans as some men go skimming over the years of existence to sink gently into a placid grave, ignorant of life to the last, without ever having been made to see all it may contain of perfidy, of violence, and of terror. There are on sea and land such men thus fortunate—or thus disdained by destiny or by the sea.

Imagination, the enemy of men, the father of all terrors.

The horror, the horror.

he is the perfect flower of the terroristic wilderness. What troubled me most in dealing with him was not his monstrosity but his banality.

In fact, though the books came slowly, he was a novelist to his bootlaces, an avid narrator who couldn't stop the story once it had started, who felt the terrors of existence so acutely that he had to tell them and tell them until he'd made them something else.

Something can be very funny and then suddenly very terrifying-very exciting, and suddenly very ridiculous. I think that's what life is like, that's what interests me.

Rogar a Dios que sea bueno contigo porque lo que te aterroriza es que Dios no sea bueno contigo.