Quotes About Eerie

I want my shows to be eerie and mysterious.

There's always a bloody ghost.

It was as if he weren't human anymore, merely a wraith sent from the netherworld to haunt humanity.

The abbey was vampire heaven.

gave off an eerie radiance that stained the trees and silvered the road.

Innocently, as they moved past her, she added, "Oh, and don't trip over the body on the floor.

The little owls call to each other with tremulous, quavering voices throughout the livelong night, as they sit in the creaking trees.

I wants to make your flesh creep...

Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land.

I love Halloween, and I love spooky stuff. I love horror movies. I love everything creepy, and I've always kind of wanted to do this, just do really dark pop.

I find Nevada to be extremely spooky.

I loved anything spooky, mysterious, or frightening.

Everything becomes magnified at night. Sounds travel in a different way, it's dark, and everything seems far more spooky.

I sleepwalk and scare people. It's actually very spooky.

I happen to collect the weird stuff - photos that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up a little. The uncanny.

I heard nothing, but ever more clearly as the light of the half-moon grew sharper, I thought I could make out a dark shape, and soon, as it came nearer, I saw it. It sat on a horse, a high-boned, haggard white horse. A dark mantle fluttered across the figure's shoulders, and as he flew past, two burning eyes stared at me out of a pale face.

Cobain the writer is funny and self-aware and snotty with a knack for off-the-cuff profundity. Remarking to a friend that his band will be called 'Nirvana,' he scribbles next to it the words 'Oooh eerie mystical doom.'

It's eerie, but what's happening is the folks are staring at themselves in the monitor staring at themselves in the monitor staring at themselves in the monitor, on and on, completely trapped in a reality loop that never ends.

what was going on here went well beyond weird and into the stuff of a Stephen King novel.

He heard an eery, dry whispering whose source and distance he could not at once determine. Sometimes it seemed at his very ear, and then it ebbed away as if sinking into profound subterranean vaults. But the sound, though variable in this manner, never ceased entirely; and it seemed to shape itself into words that the listener almost understood: words that were fraught with the hopeless sorrow of a dead man who had sinned long ago, and had repented his sin through black sepulchral ages.

There was a memory and a promise of blood in the air.

There's no delight the equal of dread.

As if something moved toward them, old and dark.

Everything was too quiet to be natural. It seemed as if the silence was rising, rising—would suddenly brim over and break into laughter.