Quotes About Darkness

But everything's Horror, isn't it? Sometimes you just can't see the blood

When you're wearing slasher goggles, everything can look like a slasher.

She didn't really die. Just got skewered for laughs, left for dead in some steaming pile of gore with her current boy toy.

Horror is not a symptom it's a love affair.

When you're wearing slasher goggles, everything can look like a slasher.

The worst is always true for werewolves.

Horror's not a symptom, it's a love affair.

Because the Nazis taught me this: There is a Hitler inside each of us and if we do not heal the Hitler inside of ourselves, then the violence, it will never stop.

the Nazis taught me this: There is a Hitler inside each of us and if we do not heal the Hitler inside of ourselves, then the violence, it will never stop.

Gradually, the night stumbled as if stunned and wandering aimlessly into an overcast day -- limped through the wilderland of transition as though there were no knowing where the waste of darkness ended and the ashes of light began. The low clouds seemed full of grief -- tense and uneasy with accumulated woe -- and yet affectless, unable to rain, as if the air clenched itself too hard for tears. And through the dawn, Atiaran and Covenant moved heavily, unevenly, like pieces of a broken lament.

He sighed and shook his head slowly. 'And there will be no bringing back the light once it has gone.

I took him by the arm to steady him. He opened his eyes slowly, the bright golden gleam now darkened with pain and sorrow. "Morgian!' he uttered, his voice strangled with grief. "It was Morgian. . .

I could not see the unholy creature, but I could feel the bone-aching chill of its presence, and I heard the howl of its mindless hate. I quailed to think of the power that had called it into being and loosed it on the world.

For only he who has lived in darkness truly knows and values the light.

He looked as one whom Lord Death has groomed for his own.

How is a man fortunate to live in the darkness, brother?" "Why do you wonder?" asked Blaise. "For only he who has lived in darkness truly knows and values the light.

Sometimes I stare into a pool of piss, I see my reflection, I picture a hole in my face, there's nothing there, it's vanished. I watch the maggots turn to flies, and they fly off with bits of flesh from my body. I attempt to wipe it clear from my mind, but the nice thoughts get swallowed up. I can't think nice for too long…it would destroy me.

Suicides - you read of it…but you don't know the truth, if you were to see it you would go insane! Cut throats, cut wrists, hangings, suffocating, eyes bulging and tongues protruding, more shit. Suicides always shit themselves, did you know that! Life's final shit, the final act of madness; smell that you rats! Clean me up you pigs, zip me up in the bag you scum and get me out of here… Get me the fuck out of here…get me out!

You get used to the brain being squeezed. At nighttime in the darkness of your emptiness, it seems to swell back up and gives you some peace. In the darkness even the pain is not so bad. A bruise heals. (Time is the treatment.) But it's your mind that's tortured. Your thoughts are in turmoil and despair. Feelings of awesome revenge and destruction manifest themselves.

I pulled the loaded gun out of my coat, most people were the worst for wear with the drink, although I was well known and easily recognised with the big scar down my face. Well, didn't I go and let both barrels off at the streetlight, it exploded into pieces and the front of the pub went into darkness.

Swing your razor wide! Sweeney, hold it to the skies!

Theres a hole in the world like a great black pit and its filled with people who are filled with shit

We thought we were done with these things but we were wrong. We thought, because we had power, we had wisdom. We thought the long train would run to the end of Time. We thought the light would increase. Now the long train stands derailed and the bandits loot it. Now the boar and the asp have power in our time. Now the night rolls back on the West and the night is solid. Our fathers and ourselves sowed dragon's teeth. Our children know and suffer the armed men.

My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?