Quotes About Terror

His is a rule of terror. He makes us afraid of imaginary enemies so we don't guard ourselves against him and against our government. We are so busy watching for foreigners that we forget to watch our friends.

The man who finds that in the course of his life he has done a lot of wrong often wakes up at night in terror, like a child with a nightmare, and his life is full of foreboding: but the man who is conscious of no wrongdoing is filled with cheerfulness and with the comfort of old age.

I gabbed Ivy's arm. Look. Ivy. Something just moved - by that tombstone. We both stared into the gray light. Oh, noooo, I moaned. I watched, trembling in horror as someone climbed out of a grave.

They had me on my back. And then they all swarmed at once. Bony hands pawed at me. The grunts and groans rang in my ears. I screamed as their sharp fingers punctured my chest - and ripped it open. I kept screaming as they lowered their ugly heads and began to feed.

Faster, Jerry!" Dr. Shreek instructed, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Faster! The hands are alive! Alive!" "I can't do it!" I cried. "Please!" "Faster! Faster!

Yeah, I know. Terror Aerobics. Just wait until they get it at the gym. It'll be bigge than pilates. --Eve

You okay?" Eve asked her. Claire nodded, still gasping. "Yeah, I know. Terror Aerobics. Just wait until they get it at the gym. It'll be bigger than Pilates.

I feel a wave of pure horror, like cold honey over my skin.

I mean, they're only the best punk band out there right now, named for the fucking apathy of a xenophobic fucking nation oblivious to the fucking terror its leaders wreak on the rest of the world because they're too busy worrying if their cat might be stuck up a tree or something.

There is no adult terror equivalent to what an innocent child experiences when first confronted with the truth that evil is not merely a figment of fairy tales, that it walks the world in countless forms, and that what it seeks most aggressively is the destruction of the innocent.

He's got a chloroform-soaked rag in one hand, and before Judy realizes what's happening, the dude is all over her like fat on cheese.

Terror and pleasure are linked in us. We are a baldly miswired species, Martie. Terror delights us, both the experience of terror and the dealing out of it to others. We are healthier if we admit to this miswiring and do not struggle to be better than our natures allow.

Anyone who learns the true and hidden nature of the world will be terrified, Oddie, but there's a safe harbor past the terror.

In the hollow steel-lined bin, my unfortunate eruption resonated such that it would have humiliated me if my first concern had been social acceptance. My first concern, however, was survival. At the moment, I didn't have the capacity for embarrassment because terror filled me.

Fear is essential to force societal change. Citizens subjected to unrelenting terror are more likely to surrender their selfish freedoms in the interest of a better world for all.

Fear of the unknown is the most purely distilled and potent terror.

Grief thrived in a quiet heart, and right now hers thundered with terror and revulsion

beyond that image conjured by Poe's famous story, "The Premature Burial

Colt had never shown fear, never issued a complaint about pain, remained always the definition of stoic. This wasn't merely a scream of pain, but also of pure terror, and carried on it were words: "He's biting, he's biting!

But in those final seconds, a catalogue of emotion found his eyes. There was dismay. Self-pity. Terror. An abandonment so total it took thirty years off his life and turned him into a ten-year-old before her eyes.

One never stops to think what underlies romance. Tragedy and terror, transmuted by time. Add a little art in the telling, and voilà! a stirring romance, to make the blood run fast and maidens sigh.

One never stops to think what underlies romance. Tragedy and terror, transmuted by time.

In short, it stood an object of terror and delight!

No!" shouted the prisoner, his voice rising above the others, anger lost in terror. "No, please! I told you all I—" There was a small sound, a hollow noise like a melon being kicked in, and the voice stopped. "Thrifty, our captain," Big Georges said, under his breath. "Why waste a bullet?" He took his hand off Ian's shoulder, shook his head, and knelt down to wash his hands. —