Quotes About Supernatural

Are you a ghost?

The end of the world started when a Pegasus landed on the hood of my car.

The House is in the house Chapter 38

My bus is in flames My son is older than me Please, Zeus, make it stop

No matter how many times Percy killed them and watched them crumble to powder, they just kept re-forming like large evil dust bunnies.

Tag with plague spirits You're it, and you're infectious Have fun with that, LOL

In Case of Demonic Possession, Please Follow Illuminated Signs to the Nearest Exit

Then, from somewhere above us, a voice yelled, Hey, Bronze Butt! Over the Colossus's head, a cloud of darkness formed like a cartoon dialogue bubble. Out of the shadows dropped a furry black monster dog-a hellhound-and astride his back was a young man with a glowing bronze sword. The weekend was here. Percy Jackson had arrived.

The dead were legion and the gods had their own secret agenda.

Fairy tales are the skeletons of story, perhaps. Reading them often provides an uneasy sensation—a gnawing familiarity—that comforting yet supernatural awareness of living inside a story.

Later, when I was a new mother, I recognized her somewhat awestruck fascination with me. When you are fully immersed in the daily care and quirks and habits of a small, dependent child, an older kid who is articulate, civilized, and capable of moving around in the world without getting itself killed can seem as supernatural as a wizard.

I thought you were all-seeing." All-knowing, not all-seeing!" he snapped. "I'm a God, not Santa Claus!

I glanced up to see Liz and smiled. Thank you. I just went along for the ride. After that happened- She waved at Derek. You know how blind people need Seeing Eye dogs? Well, apparently werewolves could really use Opening Door poltergeists.

We had one gun, one werewolf, one poltergeist, one supercharged spell-caster, one not-so-supercharged spell-caster, and one perfectly useless necromancer, though Liz was quick to remind me that she needed me to relay her words. - Chloe

It's because when we sneeze, our soul flies out our nose and if no one says 'bless you,' the devil can snatch it.

Derek lunged. He hit me in the shoulder and knocked me to the floor, landing on top of me. His body jerked, like he'd been hit with the spell, and I let out a yelp, struggling to get up, but he held me down, whispering I'm okay, it's okay until the words penetrated.

You're telling me that you can raise the dead by simply summoning? Yes. My God, she whispered, staring at me.What have they done? Hearing her words and seeing her expression, I knew I'd just done something worse than raising the dead-- I'd confirmed her worst fears about us. In her eyes, I saw the same thing I saw when people looked at Derek. I saw fear. And I knew we were in trouble.

Oh my God. You're a witch-hunter. I'm a witch. Hate to break it to you Daniel, but if you're a witch-hunter? You're doing it wrong. He gave me a sidelong smile. Maybe it's not that kind of hunting. Then you're definitely doing it wrong.

Using supernatural beings to build the perfect weapon? Intriguing idea. Not really, I said. They did it on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A sub-par season. I slept through half the episodes.

The upshot of her tirade was that I was the devil's spawn and should be locked up in a tower before I unleashed hordes of the living dead to slaughter them all in their sleep. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but not by much.

I'd been staring at the search term for at least five minutes. One word. Necromancer.

Wish all my corpses would do that.

What's next? If there are vampires in there, they probably drink artificial blood plasma substitute.

Nothing screws up a séance like the appearance of a real ghost. ~Jaime Vegas