Quotes About Horror

And that also makes for the horror of life all around. How does it stun you—with thunder and lightning? No, with sidelong glances and whispers of calumny. It's all trickery and ambiguity. A single thread is like a spiderweb, pull and it's gone, but try to free yourself and you get even more entangled.

I want to cut off her head and take out her heart.

As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's Lenore. Denn die Todten reiten Schnell. (For the dead travel fast.)

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in the semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place overpowering me; I am in fear -- in awful fear -- and there is no escape for me; I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of...

And then as we looked the white figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness.

May I cut off the head of dead Miss Lucy?

I told him exactly what had happened and he listened with seeming impassiveness, but his nostrils twitched and his eyes blazed as I told how the ruthless hands of the Count had held his wife in that terrible and horrid position, with her mouth to the open wound in his breast. It interested me, even at that moment, to see that whilst the face of white set passion worked convulsively over the bowed head, the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked the ruffled hair.

I am beginning to feel this nocturnal existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows that there is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place!

What I saw appalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles on the back of my neck, and my heart seemed to stand still.

That was the clock striking half-past one o'clock!" said Drawlight suddenly. "How lonely it sounds! Ugh! All the horrid things one reads of in novels always happen just as the church bell tolls or the clock strikes some hour or other in a dark house!

Why did you think he described the other world—the one he said he went to most often—as a labyrinth?' Ketterley shrugged. 'A vision of cosmic grandeur, I suppose. A symbol of the mingled glory and horror of existence. No one gets out alive.

The Pillar of Darkness has been a horror confined to Venice, which seemed - to the Paduans at least - a natural setting for horrors.

Ketterley shrugged. 'A vision of cosmic grandeur, I suppose. A symbol of the mingled glory and horror of existence. No one gets out alive.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

I need more than anything right now what is, of course, most impossible, someone to love me, to be with me at night when I wake up in shuddering horror and fear of the cement tunnels leading down to the shock room, to comfort me with an assurance that no psychiatrist can quite manage to convey.

You oughtn't to see this, Will muttered in my ear. You'll never want to have a baby if you do. They oughtn't to let women watch. It'll be the end of the human race.

This is what it is to be complete. It is horrible.

It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves. I thought it must be the worst thing in the world.

Each day demands we create our whole world over, disguising the constant horror in a coat of many-colored fictions; we mask out past in the green of Eden, pretend future's shining fruit can sprout from the navel of this present waste.

The essential advantage for a poet is not to have a beautiful world with which to deal; it is to be able to see beneath both beauty and ugliness; to see the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.

You can't understand me. It's not being alone That is the horror, to be alone with the horror. What matters is the filthiness. I can clean my skin, Purify my life, void my mind, But always the filthiness, that lies a little deeper . . .

The world was all mud and wire. The war in the heavens was only a faint imitation of the horror men had learned to make.

Seeing the bed, the crimson and eboy and golden canopy looped up over it, the covers spilled about, and her whiteness glowing against them as she approached, Leopardo knew a moment's utter and uncomprehending horror.

Hell was Electra, not a punishment of horror, but of pleasure which was horror.