Quotes About Otherworldly

Jonathan Stroud

Anyway, I find ghosts better company than most men.

But Jaypaw seemed to be guided by invisible paws, as though he walked in a secret world she could never be part of. They

But Jaypaw seemed to be guided by invisible paws, as though he walked in a secret world she could never be part of.

She wasn't religious. She didn't believe in heaven or hell, only in ghosts, Ouija boards, tables which rapped and little inept voices speaking plaintively of flowers

Look at it, Dane. Look at the city and the world in its proud array, like a cask of jewels laid open for you. It'll offer you everything you ever wanted but it's just pictures on billboards; dream cars, dream women, dream houses. Time to wake up now and say goodbye. Remember, Dane: there's other worlds out there. It's only empty air here. Jump out of the world, jump to the place I showed you and you'll not fall. Are you ready? Are you ready to jump right off the edge of everything?

The women who are pool waitresses are another worldly species. They're half-desert lizards. They never have sunburns.

To me, there is nothing but puerility in a tale in which the human form - and local human passions and conditions and standards - are depicted as native to other worlds and universes.

I've always been a fan of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. I like working with larger-than-life characters in fascinating worlds - places where the rules are different.

I loved 'Pan's Labyrinth.' It transported me into another world. I like fantasy worlds; I love 'Lord of the Rings' as well, for that reason, because you really get to get out of reality and go somewhere else.

That's the paradox, people aren't interested in reading about settling on Mars or flying to the stars—all the things that people really can achieve, but Others can't. But they dream about becoming magicians, rushing into battle with a big sharp sword…. If only they knew what the wounds from a real sword look like!…What does all this mean? That a medieval world in which magic exists is the one most attractive to people!

The daemon wind died down, and the bloated, fungoid moon sank reddeningly in the west.

She seemed, poor woman, to imagine that the French and the Martians might prove very similar.

I am a dreamer. Seriously, I'm living on another planet.

I have long observed that the act of writing is viewed, by some, as an elite and otherworldly act, all the more so if a person isn't paid for what she writes.

Can you really say you thought the man who brought this here was a sorcerer? said Elphie. And that this book comes from - another world? Do you even believe in other worlds? I find it a great effort to believe in this one, said Sarima, yet it seems to be here, so why should I trust my skepticism about other worlds? Don't you believe?

Sounds—possibly musical—heard in the night from other worlds or realms of being.

This was no fruit of such worlds and suns as shine on the telescopes and photographic plates of our observatories. This was no breath from the skies whose motions and dimensions our astronomers measure or deem too vast to measure. It was just a colour out of space - a frightful messenger from unformed realms of infinity beyond all Nature as we know it; from realms whose mere existence stuns the brain and numbs us with the black extra-cosmic gulfs it throws open before our frenzied eyes.

The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them. They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen.

The appeal of the spectrally macabre is generally narrow because it demands from the reader a certain degree of imagination and a capacity for detachment from everyday life.

Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread.

When the stars were right, They could plunge from world to world through the sky; but when the stars were wrong, They could not live.

It was just a colour out of space—a frightful messenger from unformed realms of infinity beyond all Nature as we know it; from realms whose mere existence stuns the brain and numbs us with the black extra-cosmic gulfs it throws open before our frenzied eyes.

He talked about terrible meetings in lonely places, of cyclopean ruins in the heart of the Maine woods beneath which vast staircases led down to abysses of nighted secrets, of complex angles that led through invisible walls to other regions of space and time, and of hideous exchanges of personality that permitted explorations in remote and forbidden places, on other worlds, and in different space-time continua.