Quotes About Ghostly

I'll be the girl they say pink things to, so weightless she arrives by ghost.

Who am I? If this once I were to rely on a proverb, then perhaps everything would amount to knowing whom I "haunt". I must admit that this last word is misleading, tending to establish between certain beings and myself relations that are stranger, more inescapable, more disturbing than I intended. Such a word means much more than it says, makes me, still alive, play a ghostly part, evidently referring to what I must have ceased to be in order to be who I am.

In these ghostly places late summer nights: He was half-waiting to be born. Having vanished from his former life, having shed his previous self with the suits he had left behind in a basement in Washington, he was a ghost, in fact, waiting to come to life through love.

Little wonder that he wandered in these ghostly places late summer nights: He was waiting to be born (...) he was a ghost, in fact, waiting to come to life through love

The screaming of the beasts becomes louder. One can no longer distinguish whence in this now quiet silvery landscape it comes; ghostly, invisible, it is everywhere, between heaven and earth it rolls on immeasurably.

A ghostly virga of ice followed it through the night

As the commentator Polly Toynbee wrote: 'Diana the Difficult was a problem the Palace could tackle but St Diana is something the Palace can never contend with… If some day the monarchy finally draws peacefully to a close, Diana's ghostly spirit will have played its part.

Princess!" Alther beamed and gave her his ghostly hug, which always made Jenna feel as though a warm summer breeze had wafted through her.

Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.

Over shadowy spires and gleaming towers lay the ghostly darkness and silence that runs before dawn.

The missing guy got back from the restroom. He stood behind Reacher's chair, arms spread wide in exaggerated perplexity. As if to say, what the hell is going on here? Who is this guy? Reacher kept one eye on Jimmy Rat, and one on the window alongside him, where he could see a faint ghostly reflection of what was happening behind his shoulder.

The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life.

No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man can store up in his ghostly heart

It was October in 1913, midway in a week of pleasant days, with the sunshine loitering in the cross-streets and the atmosphere so languid as to seem weighted with ghostly falling leaves.

It's easy to keep to yourself if you hang back and always sit in the last row and slip around corners as if you were a ghost.

the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death, and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

Life without illusion is a ghostly affair.

There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors and looking them piteously in the eyes—die with despair of heart and convulsion of throat, on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer themselves to be revealed.

leafless trees stand atop slag heaps like skeleton hands shoved up from the underworld.

Written kisses don't reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts.

Written kisses never arrive at their destination; the ghosts drink them up along the way.

Leer a Céline presupone enfrentarse a una reducida pero intensa e insistente constelación de sombras fantasmales que, situadas entre el lector y el texto

It still had electricity and running water, the stove worked, the coffee maker could still brew, the refrigerator kept food cold. But the house had become a phantom. It was no longer living and breathing, surrounding the family and making them feel safe. It wafted along, an untethered spirit, drained of everything it once had been.

Cómo podría no amar a ese hombre? Pero era el amor de un fantasma, unos brazos que rodeaban pero no tocaban, un cuenco lleno de arroz pero sin apetito para comerlo, sin plenitud.