Quotes About Ghost

A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!

And the voice, the voice which I had recognized under the mask, was on its knees before me was a man ! And I began to cry... The man, still kneeling, must have understood the cause of my tears, for he said, 'It is true, Christine!... I am not an Angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost... I am Erik!

Mysterious though the ghost may at first appear, he will always be more easily explained than the dismal story in which malevolent people have tried to picture two brothers killing each other who had worshiped each other all their lives. Believe me, etc.

THE OPERA GHOST REALLY EXISTED.

Come, children, pull yourselves together! I dare say no one has ever seen the ghost." "Yes, yes, we saw him—we saw him just now!" cried the girls. "He had his death's head and his dress-coat, just as when he appeared to Joseph Buquet!" "And Gabriel saw him too!" said Jammes. "Only yesterday! Yesterday afternoon—in broad day-light——

Sorelli was very superstitious. She shuddered when she heard little Jammes speak of the ghost, called her a "silly little fool" and then, as she was the first to believe in ghosts in general, and the Opera ghost in particular, at once asked for details: "Have you seen him?" "As plainly as I see you now!" said little Jammes

Possibly I was mistaken, but it seemed to me that he went pale. At last he muttered, "It isn't much of a ghost story, I'm afraid, but then I didn't make it up.

When you read a supernatural suspense story or a ghost story, or a horror story, the evil at play is something that you can dismiss. And I wonder if, in this time, if people really want to be sitting on the subway reading a book about someone releasing a dirty bomb on the subway.

My greatest thrill was the day Mad magazine spoofed 'Ghost.'

Even though it's meant to be the season of jollity and goodwill, there's something delicious about the anticipation of a Christmassy ghost thrill.

[H]e had a strange sense of being haunted, a feeling that the shades of his imagination were stepping out into the real world, that destiny was acquiring the slow, fatal logic of a dream. 'Now I know what a ghost is,' he thought. 'Unfinished business, that's what.'

Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what.

Because every story is a ghost story, even mine.

Unfortunate though interesting choice, since it could almost convince you that some cosmic truth of our existence slips in no matter how much Sagan and Druyan tried to control it. Waldheim's dead now. Lots of the people on this record are dead now. We sent ghost stories up into space.

Sometimes the past comes up on us like a ghost. Sometimes life is like a haunted house. But there's no way to leave. You just have to make your peace with the ghosts.

DON'T MIND ME, I'M JUST DEAD!

I would like to hook up with one of the great Japanese filmmakers, like the master that made Ringu, and I would like to take 'The Wicker Man' to Japan, except this time he's a ghost.

All that happened was that as the sun passed the meridian at Cape Town it went out. There remained visible merely a pale, purple ghost, giving no heat or light.

Not one of us, even after last night, can say the word ghost without a little involuntary smile. No, the menace of the supernatural is that it attacks where modern minds are weakest, where we have abandoned our protective armor of superstition and have no substitute defense.

A thing which has not been understood inevitably reappears; like an unlaid ghost, it cannot rest until the mystery has been resolved and the spell broken.

When you start dreaming- what's there to boast?Life may treat you like a living ghostBrokenness haunts you until you perishDeath will bring you nothing to cherish

The white ghost knew what all these horsemen meant; he knew what was expected of him that day; but he knew that is body ached, that his throat was dry, and that the rolling stubble called but faintly to him. The day before he had eaten a piece of tainted meat no bigger than a lump of sugar, and now it was better to lie quietly I the soft straw then to pit one's speed and nose against another over those long, long miles.

I thought about my friend and wondered if his ghost was here with Macarthur. Or maybe they were in heaven somewhere watching me sing with Gecko telling the old man he was getting goosebumps.

He was an extraordinarily ugly person, Lilo thought, with the ugliness that only caricature can achieve. As repulsive as a twisted, stunted ghost from the past on Old Earth.