Quotes About Dread

I suppose that writers should, in a way, feel flattered by the censorship laws. They show a primitive fear and dread at the fearful magic of print.

The woman is bad-tempered because she's terrified.

The idea of bringing someone into the world fills me with horror. I would curse myself if I were a father. A son of mine! Oh no, no, no! May my entire flesh perish and may I transmit to no one the aggravations and the disgrace of existence.

The more you approach infinity, the deeper you penetrate terror

Broad daylight does not encourage the apprehension of horror.

But she shook with rage, and got up one of those conjugal scenes which make a peaceable man dread the domestic hearth more than a battlefield where bullets are raining.

El verdadero miedo es como una reminiscencia de los terrores fantásticos de antaño. Un

Lenta pero inexorablemente, arrastrándose sobre mi conciencia e imponiéndose a cualquier otra impresión, llegó un temor vertiginoso a lo desconocido, un miedo tanto mayor cuando que no podía analizarlo y que parecía concernir a una furtiva amenaza que se aproximaba..., no la muerte, sino algo sin nombre, un ente inusitado indeciblemente más espantoso y aborrecible.

Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men. A time will come-but I must not and cannot think! Let me pray that, if I do survive this manuscript, my executors may put caution before audacity and see that it meets no other eye.

La emoción más antigua y más intensa de la humanidad es el miedo, y el más antiguo y más intenso de los miedos es el miedo a lo desconocido

La más antigua y poderosa emoción de la humanidad es el miedo, y la clase más antigua y poderosa de miedo es el temor a lo desconocido

Memories and possibilities are even more hideous than realities.

There are horrors beyond life's edge that we do not suspect, and once in a while man's evil prying calls them just within our range.

I am so beastly tired of mankind and the world that nothing can interest me unless it contains a couple of murders on each page or deals with the horrors unnameable and unaccountable that leer down from the external universes.

I have looked upon all the universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me.

Something was creeping and creeping and waiting to be seen and felt and heard.

The one test of the really weird (story) is simply this--whether or not there be excited in the reader a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wings or the scratching of outside shapes and entities on the known universe's utmost rim.

I was nearly unnerved at my proximity to a nameless thing at the bottom of a pit.

Would to Heaven we had never approached them at all, but had run back at top speed out of that blasphemous tunnel with the greasily smooth floors and the degenerate murals aping and mocking the things they had superseded-run back, before we had seen what we did see, and before our minds were burned with something which will never let us breathe easily again!

It is a mistake to fancy that horror is associated inextricably with darkness, silence, and solitude.

A mountain walked or stumbled.

At this horror I sank nearly to the lichened earth, transfixed with a dread not of this nor any world, but only of the mad spaces between the stars.

The one test of the really weird is simply this—whether or not there be excited in the reader a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wings or the scratching of outside shapes and entities on the known universe's utmost rim.

Without warning, I heard the heavy door behind me creak slowly open upon its rusted hinges.