Quotes About Nightmare

I'm your worst nightmare come to walk this side of the lines. I'm an elf, Trent something you're forgotten how to be. You're scared of black magic. I can see fear shimmering under your aura like sweat. I live and breathe black magic. I'm so tainted with it that I will use it without thought, without guilt and without hesitation.

I'm heir to madness. Vessel of perversion. Your nightmare should you cross me. Daryl's chin lifted, trembling. Indeed. We might be sisters then, for I'm the same.

Pixy dust thickened to make my eyes water, but after the loud complaints and muttered disappointment, the Disney nightmare subsided as quickly as it had come.

What was worry, after all, but a kind of fear? It was fear for the future. And in fact the future was bound to bring its share of bad things, there was no avoiding that. So worry was really a hopeless enterprise, in that it could not do anything. It was an anticipation of grief, a nightmare of the future. A type of fear; and she was determined not to be afraid.

As he'd slept one night, suffering from some nightmare, she'd gazed down at him with tenderness. Her chest had ached with feeling for him—as his continued to do for her. She'd smoothed hair from his brow, soothing him with soft words.

This, however, is a passing nightmare; in time the earth will become again incapable of supporting life, and peace will return.

The darkness drops again but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Now I no longer live in our clear, rational world; I live in the ancient nightmare world, the world of square roots of minus one.

I've been here before, dreaming myself backwards, among grappling hooks of light. True to the seasons, I've lived every word spoken. Did I walk into someone's nightmare?

I no longer live in our clear, rational world; I live in the ancient nightmare world, the world of square roots of minus one.

I planted some jokes in my wedding. Like, the organizers asked me to select music. So when I approached wife at the ceremony, they played the second movement from Shostakovich's 10th Symphony, which is usually known as the "portrait of Stalin." And then when we embraced, the music that they played was Schubert's "Death and the Maiden." I enjoyed this in a childish way! But marriage was all a nightmare and so on and so on.

I'm not your proverbial worst nightmare because nightmares aren't real and I am more real than anybody wants to admit.

Life is but a dream. Don't turn it into a nightmare.

So," I said climbing to my feet and changing the subject ASAP, "I had a dream last night someone tried to burn me alive, and I'm not entirely sure it was a dream." Devon stiffened. Chase's pupils pulsed. Subject successfully changed. "Now who's ready to eat?

They again kissed each other and fell asleep. The patch of light on the ceiling now seemed to be assuming the shape of a terrified eye, that stared wildly and fixedly upon the pale, slumbering couple who reeked with crime beneath their very sheets, and dreamt they could see a rain of blood falling in big drops, which turned into golden coins as they plashed upon the floor.

The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window.

This was a nightmare scenario for any bodyguard: stuck in the middle of a transparent tube, several miles underwater, with a murdering band of fugitives at one end and an enthralled but still highly skilled police officer at the other.

best way to deal with fear is to face the nightmare!

She returned to consciousness only to find herself in an unescapable nightmare.

Nightmare: A Tale for an Autumn Evening

Like a horrible nightmare, the abrogation of equal rights weighs upon us all, but especially upon those Jews who, like me, had surrendered themselves to the dream of assimilation.

We are weighed down, every moment, by the conception and the sensation of Time. And there are but two means of escaping and forgetting this nightmare: pleasure and work. Pleasure consumes us. Work strengthens us. Let us choose.

I wanted to create the weirdest show ever made on television - a punky, prog-rock nightmare of lurid colours.

I had a terrible dream when I was pregnant; I dreamt the baby had a ventriloquial mouth, but there was no hand hole; I had to flick the mouth down to get words out.