Quotes About Haunting

que todos bailemos al son de la tonada que ella toca. Corazones sangrantes, y secos huesos en los cementerios, y lágrimas que queman al caer..., todos bailan juntos la misma música que ella ejecuta con esa boca sin risa que posee.

Tem alguma coisa naquele vento e no nevoeiro. É algo que parece ter o jeito, o som, o gosto e o cheiro da morte.

Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the moonlit sky.

Ans then there was silence, deep awful silence, which chilled me.

And then I flashed on: When you talk to me you're really talking to yourself, dude. I was still haunted by it.

A glittering disco ball spins from the ceiling, but the music is something I've never heard, discordant and haunting and insistent, the kind of music that demands you dance.

Forgotten memories surfaced like the ghosts of the dead (...)

I asked him what the amulet meant to him, what its meaning was. At first, I thought he wasn't going to answer. But then, in a haunting voice, he said that it represented the dance with death. I was horrified by that. He said the dance with death was the way of the War Wizard.

It's your privilege to find me incomprehensible. I gave you my minutes; let them remain ours. I hope I haunt you.

The other day upon the stair, I saw a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today; how I wish he'd go away!" ~Gabrielle O'Callaghan towards Adam Black

I know that traditionally, monsters hang around empty places for no apparent reason—and

There is a pale, penetrating loneliness chiselled into every statue. A kind of loneliness made living. It haunts every rock and stone, every sinew of every room. A whispering, blistery loneliness. In a breath's moment, I swear I can hear voices, and at the exact same time, all I can hear is the deafening sound of utter nothingness.

Ghosts are both remnants of history and witnesses to it.

Ghost stories are how we forgive houses for daring to outlive us.

Did she ever reply?" Bong Cha narrowed her eyes at Sam, deciding if her grandson was trying to trick her into appearing foolish. "Yes, in my mind, she did. I knew your mother so well I could play her part. The same with my own mother and my grandmother and my childhood best friend, Euna, who drowned in the lake by her cousin's house. There are no ghosts, but up here"—she gestured toward her head—"it's a haunted house.

Yes, in my mind, she did. I knew your mother so well I could play her part. The same with my own mother and my grandmother and my childhood best friend, Euna, who drowned in the lake by her cousin's house. There are no ghosts, but up here"—she gestured toward her head—"it's a haunted house.

There are no ghosts, but up here", she gestured toward her head "it's a haunted house".

Know that it is a corpse who loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!...Look, I am not laughing now, crying, crying for you, Christine, who have torn off my mask and who therefore can never leave me again!...Oh, mad Christine, who wanted to see me!

Blood!...Blood!... That's a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!

Usher—threadbare

He was thinking of that time, the way one does on long journeys when rootlessness and boredom, lack of sleep or routine can summon from out of nowhere random stretches of the past, make them as real as a haunting. --Solar

One day I want to write a full-on horror book.

I am as true as anything you have ever seen. A dying child, abandoned by the world. And I say this: there is nothing truer. Nothing. Flee from me if you can. I promise I will haunt you. This is my only purpose now, the only one left to me. I am history made alive, holding on but failing. I am everything you would not think of, belly filled and thirst slaked, there in all your comforts surrounded by faces you know and love. But hear me. Heed my warning. History has claws.

Victory tastes sweetest in the absence of haunting memories, Bult. Savor it.