Quotes About Phantom

The second encirclement would be a disaster, and it would win me commendation and international fame. It would leave my brain full—as it is now, here on the Toloa's deck—of visions of pleading faces and ruined bodies, of phantom agonies that scour the parts of my consciousness where I once held hope for the future, like the pains that plague a maimed man where a limb's been cut away.

Ghost hunters can be the most ingenious breed when it comes to inventing ghastly tales, but ask them to think up a name for the ghost of a woman dressed in white, and they give you "the White Lady.

She was a phantom of delightWhen first she gleamed upon my sight;A lovely apparition, sentTo be a moment's ornament.

She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament.

She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament: Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

The sketches were uncanny, almost photographic in quality. Reference points were given; the viewers described the surrounding terrain and landmarks. There were even sketches showing the aircraft's location in relation to the Ecuadorean search teams. In every sketch there was a phantom, a transparent body: sort of a self portrait of the viewer in the target area.

There is a room in England somewhere, but it's nowhere to be seen. It exists only in the mind, and only in the mind of those that have been there.

Only memory matters. Mine sometimes overflows. Because it harbours my father's memories, too, since his mind has become a sieve. No, not a sieve: an autumn leaf, dried, torn. No, a phantom which I see only at midnight. I know: one cannot see a memory. But I can. I see it as the shadow of a shadow which constantly withdraws and turns inward. I hardly glimpse it, and it vanishes in the abyss.

being nothing, being unimagined, being unreal.

I want to touch a phantom, it's the grey dove of truth

I had to get used to wearing a mask and wearing a prosthetic and performing with those things while singing and expressing myself through stylized movement, while keeping it as human as possible so the audience could be closer to the horror of the Phantom.

The spookiest thing for me is when I think I see something, and then nothing is there. I always imagine I see something, or I'll catch movement out of the corner of my eye, but nothing is really there.

Those words, that voice, had more power over me than any phantom ever could.

Tasha y yo debería invertir en máscaras en plan fantasma de la ópera

There was something coming up the street on the opposite side. It was something black . . . Something tall and black . . . Something very tall and very black and very thin. Who?

dream-canals and heard a phantom song pealing high between vaporous grey wave-lapped walls.

He was silent for a time; and the Water Rat, silent too and enthralled, floated on dream-canals and heard a phantom song pealing high between vaporous grey wave-lapped walls.

he would not miss him as she did now, when the ache of his absence was her unremitting companion-like the phantom pain of an amputee

For leveling really to come about a phantom must first be provided, its spirit, a monstrous abstraction, an all-encompassing something that is nothing, a mirage -- this phantom is the public . Only a passionless but reflective age can spin this phantom out, with the help of the press when the press itself becomes an abstraction ... [and] the only thing that can keep life going in the prevailing torpor.

In all seriousness, she said, If a phantom has an orgasm, is it a phantasm?

Throughout history, works of art have been stolen under mysterious circumstances...Said by some to be the work of "Phantom" thieves... ...Others dismiss it as mere myth. But in this country, the stories are all too true. The name of this mysterious thief? "Dark." And his true identity? No one knows...

The night you gave me my birthday party… you were a young Lieutenant and I was a fragrant phantom, wasn't I? And it was a radiant night, a night of soft conspiracy and the trees agreed that it was all going to be for the best.

The night you gave me my birthday party... you were a young Lieutenant and I was a fragrant phantom, wasn't I? And it was a radiant night, a night of soft conspiracy and the trees agreed that it was all going to be for the best.

It seemed that acquiring a house was not the same thing as acquiring a home. And connected to home was a question I swatted away every time it landed too near me. Who else was living with me in the grand old house with the pomegranate tree? Was I alone with the melancholy fountain for company? No. There was definitely someone else there with me, perhaps even cooling their feet in that fountain. Who was this person? A phantom.