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Ghost Stories Quotes

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Ghost Stories Quotes

“He let go of the rope one hand at a time and latched onto Lisa’s hands. Her fingernails dug into his wrists, but her grip was strong after a summer of lifting girls into the air. It was a tug of war battle between his friends and Shawn’s ghost. The wind died down as Shawn gathered all of his energy to pull on Mike. Even though he was terrified of what was happening, Mike knew that Shawn wasn’t trying to hurt him. After all these years, he was still trying to find a way out. Shawn wanted to go home too, and he saw the hope of being rescued falling away. “Shawn! Please! Let me go!” Mike called over the dying wind, “I’ll get you help! We’ll get you out! Just please! Let me go!” - Saving Hascal's Horrors”

BoysAdventureMiddle GradeGhost Stories
Author:Laura Smith
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“Even though it’s pleasing to boast about achievements I have earned in my generation, nothing makes me more content in the world than just having the exciting opportunity to share my passion of work with the public. What is even more exhilarating, is being able (having the capability) to spend quality time with my loving wife, (Gloria) and family doing what I love most in the world -- writing. Their total well-being and health, along with my health too means everything to me. I have had my fair share of narrow escapes in my life to know how important my family, and health are to me. I will never take that for granted again – ever.”

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Book:Obliterated: Everything is About To Change
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“She stood in the snow, effervescent, all pale skin and blonde hair, clad in white and bathed in moonlight. She should have looked angelic, instead she looked like a corpse, freshly raised from the grave, frosted in ice and darkness, swaying precariously in a graveyard.”

GhostsUrban FantasyGothicParanormal ThrillerGhost StoriesSupernatural ThrillersUrban Fantasy SeriesContemporary FantasyParanormal MysteryParanormal FictionGothic FictionSupernatural MysteryGothic HorrorGothic LiteratureGothic Fantasy
Book:Chasing Azrael
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“Insects crawled across my skin, legs skittering across my flesh, numbed paths of cold left in their wake. They were the creatures that heralded my ghosts, and I knew them well, yet the revulsion they caused in those moments far exceeded anything I’d felt before.”

HorrorGhostsUrban FantasyGothicHorror FictionParanormal ThrillerGhost StoriesSupernatural ThrillersUrban Fantasy SeriesContemporary FantasyParanormal MysteryParanormal FictionGothic FictionSupernatural MysteryGothic HorrorGothic LiteratureGothic Fantasy
Book:Chasing Azrael
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“St. Augustine is not only the oldest continuously-occupied European settlement on the American continent, it is also perhaps the most haunted city in the United States. Seemingly every spot in this city has some ghostly hidden history, right below the surface. Just by strolling through the historic streets you can hear the whispers of the long-dead.”

HistoryGhost StoriesHauntSt Augustine
Book:St. Augustine Ghosts: Hauntings in the Ancient City
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“During the season, they saw each other and played together almost every day. At the aunt's request, seconded by Professor Valérius, Daaé consented to give the young viscount some violin lessons. In this way, Raoul learned to love the same airs that had charmed Christine's childhood. They also both had the same calm and dreamy little cast of mind. They delighted in stories, in old Breton legends; and their favorite sport was to go and ask for them at the cottage-doors, like beggars: "Ma'am..." or, "Kind gentleman... have you a little story to tell us, please?" And it seldom happened that they did not have one "given" them; for nearly every old Breton grandame has, at least once in her life, seen the "korrigans" dance by moonlight on the heather. But their great treat was, in the twilight, in the great silence of the evening, after the sun had set in the sea, when Daaé came and sat down by them on the roadside and in a low voice, as though fearing lest he should frighten the ghosts whom he loved, told them the legends of the land of the North. And, the moment he stopped, the children would ask for more. There was one story that began: "A king sat in a little boat on one of those deep still lakes that open like a bright eye in the midst of the Norwegian mountains..." And another: "Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her hair was golden as the sun's rays and her soul as clear and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of her frock and her little red shoes and her fiddle, but most of all loved, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music." While the old man told this story, Raoul looked at Christine's blue eyes and golden hair; and Christine thought that Lotte was very lucky to hear the Angel of Music when she went to sleep. The Angel of Music played a part in all Daddy Daaé's tales; and he maintained that every great musician, every great artist received a visit from the Angel at least once in his life. Sometimes the Angel leans over their cradle, as happened to Lotte, and that is how their are little prodigies who play the fiddle at six better than fifty, which, you must admit, is very wonderful. Sometimes, the Angel comes much later, because the children are naughty and won't learn their lessons or practice their scales. And, sometimes, he does not come at all, because the children have a bad heart or a bad conscience. No one ever sees the Angel; but he is heard by those who are meant to hear him. He often comes when they least expect him, when they are sad or disheartened. Then their ears suddenly perceive celestial harmonies, a divine voice, which they remember all their lives. Persons who are visited by the Angel quiver with a thrill unknown to the rest of mankind. And they can not touch an instrument, or open their mouths to sing, without producing sounds that put all other human sounds to shame. Then people who do not know that the Angel has visited those persons say that they have genius. Little Christine asked her father if he had heard the Angel of Music. But Daddy Daaé shook his head sadly; and then his eyes lit up, as he said: "You will hear him one day, my child! When I am in Heaven, I will send him to you!" Daddy was beginning to cough at that time.”

FatherChildhood MemoriesGhost StoriesChristine DaaeAngel Of MusicRaoul De ChagnyGustave DaaeKorrigan
Book:The Phantom of the Opera
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“We tell stories of the dead as a way of making a sense of the living. More than just simple urban legends and campfire tales, ghost stories reveal the contours of our anxieties, the nature of our collective fears and desires, the things we can’t talk about in any other way. The past we’re most afraid to speak aloud of in the bright light of day is the same past that tends to linger in the ghost stories we whisper in the dark.”

American HistoryGhostsGhost StoriesFolk Tales
Book:Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places
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“We spend a lot of time talking about leaving a legacy in this world, grand or small, financial or repetitional, so that we won’t be forgotten. But ghost stories show us a different concern, hidden under our bluster: we hope that the dead won’t forget us. We hope that we, the living, will not lose the meanings that seem to evaporate when our loved ones die.”

LegacyGhost StoriesWintering
Book:Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times
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“The world of shadows and superstition that was Victorian England, so well depicted in this 1871 tale, was unique. While the foundations of so much of our present knowledge of subjects like medicine, public health, electricity, chemistry and agriculture, were being, if not laid, at least mapped out, people could still believe in the existence of devils and demons. And why not? A good ghost story is pure entertainment. It was not until well into the twentieth century that ghost stories began to have a deeper significance and to become allegorical; in fact, to lose their charm. No mental effort is required to read 'The Weird Woman', no seeking for hidden meanings; there are no complexities of plot, no allegory on the state of the world. And so it should be. At what other point in literary history could a man, standing over the body of his fiancee, say such a line as this: 'Speak, hound! Or, by heaven, this night shall witness two murders instead of one!' Those were the days. (introduction to "The Weird Woman")”

HorrorVictorianGhost StoriesVictorian EraGhost StoryVictorian AgeVictorian LondonVictorian Literature
Book:Terror by Gaslight: More Victorian Tales of Terror
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“We ambled on to the gift store where I found a t-shirt that tickled my fancy. I also fell in love with a pen holder that looked like a family of spotted Nessies. I asked the clerk to first wrap the pen holder in some tissue paper and then in the t-shirt. My heart would be broken if it didn’t survive the trip back home. There were some things a woman cannot live without.”

Ghost StoriesLoch Ness
Book:Soul Sign: A Zackie Story of Supernatural Suspense
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“You will find me in the flicker of dying bulbs, in the rustle of sleepless winds, in the corridor's caged whispers, in the door's slow-blooming creak, in the wail of distant gales, in night's ink-thick hollows, in the silver hush of anklets, in each bead trembling on an orphaned necklace- for even after I am gone, your fear will keep me breathing everywhere light forgets to look.”

HorrorParanormal RomanceParanormal ThrillerGhost StoriesSupernatural SuspenseSupernatural MysterySupernatural Horror StoriesRevenge StoryJapanese Horror
Book:The Midnight Revenants: Asian Ghost Stories—Revenge Thrillers & Paranormal Romance
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“The Dead of Winter by Stewart Stafford In truth, winter is the dead's season, Their graveyard chill touches Earth, The skeleton moon's danse macabre, As the darkened Sun heralds rebirth. Wild hunters of Christmas Eve skies, Mighty Odin or Arthur leading all, Hellhounds, fiery steeds, chase, To feast in a Valhalla or Camelot hall. Assemble at the hearth, my kindred, Share unnerving tales of gothic fright, Raised pulses as spectral guests join us, Frayed nerves spiked on this haunted night. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

DeathWinterChristmasSupernaturalDark FantasyGhost StoriesWinter SolsticeGothic PoetryFolklore And MythologyChristmas Gothic
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“He does love prophesying a misfortune, does the average British ghost. Send him out to prognosticate trouble to somebody, and he is happy. Let him force his way into a peaceful home, and turn the whole house upside down by foretelling a funeral, or predicting a bankruptcy, or hinting at a coming disgrace, or some other terrible disaster, about which nobody in their senses would want to know sooner than they could possible help, and the prior knowledge of which can serve no useful purpose whatsoever, and he feels that he is combining duty with pleasure. He would never forgive himself if anybody in his family had a trouble and he had not been there for a couple of months beforehand, doing silly tricks on the lawn or balancing himself on somebody's bedrail. ("Introduction" to TOLD AFTER SUPPER)”

GhostGhostsGhost StoriesGhost StoryPrognostication
Book:Gaslit Nightmares: Stories by Robert W. Chambers, Charles Dickens, Richard Marsh, and Others
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“Nothing truly beautiful without its element of strangeness, nothing whole without its own incongruity, these (Jacksonville-area pioneer house) ruins sand up from the earth in sacred conjunction. These ruins conjoin the earth and the manmade, moving from one to the other and back again. The Browards built their house out of shell and limestone, and limestone forms naturally from the shells and skeletons of miniscule sea creatures over great periods of time. The Browards shaped the earth upright toward the sky. THey shaped it with doorframes and windows and chimneys. THey shaped the earth up around them as a shelter. But shaped earth was always the earth. Now the walls fall back down and join once again the ground, taken over by roots of ferns and weeds and small trees. The house was always the ground, only contained in an upward suspension. The house was always the earth, but brought up into architecture, and now the house that was always the earth crumbles back into the earth and nourishes new green things -- dog fennel and morning glories and palmettoes and cabbage palms and cedars. A true symbol of sacredness of the earth is earth's reclaiming of human ingenuity.”

ParanormalGhost StoriesLocal HistoryGeomancy
Author:Tim Gilmore This Kind of City Ghost stories and psychological landscapes
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“Most of the things that I remember from childhood wouldn't make a particularly good story: rescuing worms during rainstorms, our schnauzer attacking a wheel of cheese when someone dropped it during dinner, my parents tricking us into riding Space Mountain at Disney World (we thought it was an educational people-mover kind of ride), playing Star Wars (I got to marry Harrison Ford and my sister married Luke Skywalker) in first and second grade. On the other hand, we always had lots of interesting babysitters--seminary students and friends of my parents--who told really good ghost stories.”

PeopleWorldFirstsKindWarStoriesHandsRememberStarsParentSpaceInterestingChildhoodStudentsMountainMarriedEducationalDinnerGhostWheelsGradesMy SisterRidingCheeseWormsAttackingGood StoryLukeGhost StoriesBabysitterSeminaryRainstormsSchnauzers
Author:Kelly Link
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“There’s always been a need for horror fiction, though - ghost stories have been a staple of every human society since the beginning of recorded literature - and while commercially the field may have its ups and downs, it will never go away. Hell, look at the Bible: gods, devils, ghosts, witches, giants, resurrections. That’s one big horror story. And it’s the most popular book on the planet.”

NeedsHumansLooksMayHas BeensBookStoriesBigsLiteratureFictionHellFieldsPlanetsHorrorDevilGhostGiantsGoing AwayWitchResurrectionUps & DownsHuman SocietyStaplesGhost StoriesHorror StoriesPopular Book
Author:Bentley Little
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“I was already doing a lot of splendid research reading all the books about ghosts I could get hold of, and particularly true ghost stories - so much so that it became necessary for me to read a chapter of _Little Women_ every night before I turned out the light - and at the same time I was collecting pictures of houses, particularly odd houses, to see what I could find to make into a suitable haunted house.”

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Book:Come Along with Me: Classic Short Stories and an Unfinished Novel
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