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Ghosts Quotes

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Ghosts Quotes

“I am not dead. Death does not exist. I am alive! That is the purpose of this tale, to let everyone know that they do go on and that they don't need to be afraid, as I was afraid. Yet I also have a selfish reason for wanting my story told. I was young when I died. I didn't have a chance to make my mark in the world. I didn't do anything unique, nothing that will change the course of history. But I wasn't a bad girl. I don't want to be forgotten. I want people to remember me.”

“Most people would probably call me a ghost. I am, after all, dead. But I don't think of myself that way. It wasn't so long ago that I was alive, you see. I was only eighteen. I had my whole life in front of me. Now I suppose you could say I have all of eternity before me. I'm not sure exactly what that means yet. I'm told everything's going to be fine. But I have to wonder what I would have done with my life, who I might have been. That's what saddens me most about dying--that I'll never know.”

“He blamed television, movies, and books for his love of ghosts. It was a fascination that’s been with him since his youth. He always loved watching or reading anything that had to do with ghosts and haunted locations, especially historic sites like New Orleans, Salem, Tombstone, Gettysburg, and Old San Juan.”

“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)”

“There was a subtle shift in the mood in the room. Not exactly hostile, Tempy felt, more of one of accusation. It was impolite in this company to demonstrate how much the world had moved on since one had died. It was said that Hell was seeing the world pass before you while you could do nothing about it. Not only had she reminded George of his passing, and his inability to become integrated into polite society due to the language barrier, but also that he had lived a sad life.”

“He sat down on the edge of Lucie’s bed—and immediately leaped back up, blushing. Lucie took her hands off her hips, amused. “A ghost with a sense of propriety. That is funny.” He looked at her darkly. He really did have a most arresting face, she thought. His black hair and green eyes made a wintry contrast against his pale skin. As a writer, one had to pay attention to these things. Descriptions were very important.”

“They read a little bit, write a little, and especially agree with themselves on important moves, important information, important awards, important writers that they plan to enthrone forever in history through a variety of memberships and numerous prizes awarded under the influence of top bureaucrats who know everything, not only about literature, but also about secret conspiracies, the Masons that lurk in every corner to crucify someone, steal someone’s soul and sell it to an unknown devil, about whom only the chief bureaucrat possesses secret knowledge that he doesn’t share; about history, ghosts, missing continents; about who said what to whom in confidence.”

“How do you weigh a soul? Is it heavy with love or hate? Does it deny the things it's done? Does it even remember its own name? Does it miss those it has loved? Does it long for the life it's lost? How do you weigh a soul? After it has paid the highest cost, Does it lose the will to live? Without a physical shell Does it sense without hands That can touch and truly feel Does it need sustenance to last? A cold drink or warm meal How do you weigh a soul? Are souls even real?”

“Xypher flashed himself into Simone's bedroom, expecting to find her there. It was empty. Closing his eyes, he sensed for presences in the condo. There no Simone, but Jesse and Gloria in Jesse's room. Without thinking, he flashed in there to find the two ghosts naked on the bed. "Oh g-ds, I'm blind." He spun around to give them his back. "Don't you knock?" Jesse said.”

“Highlanders, driving their "creagh" toward Balquhidder, passed, their moccasin-clad feet leaving as little impress on the mist as they had left in life upon the tussocks of bent-grass. They urged the shadowy cattle with the ponts of their Lochaber axes; and last of all, wrapped in his plaid, his thick hair curling close about his hard-lined features, passed one I knew at once by his great length of arm and red beard, on which the damp hung in a frosty dew, just as it hung upon the coats of the West Highland kyloes that he drove before him on the rode. Though for two hundred years he had slept well in the lone graveyard of the deserted church beside Loch Voil, he seemed to know the road as perfectly as he had known it in his old foraying days. As he passed he moved his target forward and his hand stole to his sword, as if he recognised one of his ancient foes. Then he was swallowed up by the same mist that had protected him so often in his life.”

“The whispers you hear in your ear that you fear in the air everywhere, they are ghosts. The moans and the groans in the lowest of tones no one owns or condones, they are ghosts. You might deem them gremlins or water or wind, while others say shadows or rodents or sin. But oh! I say no! ‘Tis not so, child, for lo! The chills that you feel in a thrill that proves goose bumps are frightfully real, they are ghosts!”