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Halloween Quotes

Browse 594 quotes about Halloween.

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Halloween Quotes

“She took a bite-sized Snickers from the bowl of candy on the dining room table and opened it. With Halloween still three days away (and the bowl half empty!) she had obviously bought candy much too early this year. She popped the candy in her mouth and made a mental note to buy more at Walmart. The melting chocolate roused her brain and soothed her nerves. Yes, it made her happy. Joyful even. According to Marie Kondo, identifying joyful objects was only part of the magical tidying-up equation. Thanking each item for doing its job was also key. "Thank you, inventor of the Snickers bar, whoever you are." As far as she was concerned, chocolate should be a major food group.”

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Book:Bernice Runs Away
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“There will be a cauldron of spiced hot cider, and pumpkin shortbread fingers with caramel and fudge dipping sauces as our freebies, and I've done plenty of special spooky treats. Ladies' fingers, butter cookies the shape of gnarled fingers with almond fingernails and red food coloring on the stump end. I've got meringue ghosts and cups of "graveyard pudding," a dark chocolate pudding layered with dark Oreo cookie crumbs, strewn with gummy worms, and topped with a cookie tombstone. There are chocolate tarantulas, with mini cupcake bodies and legs made out of licorice whips, sitting on spun cotton candy nests. The Pop-Tart flavors of the day are chocolate peanut butter, and pumpkin spice. The chocolate ones are in the shape of bats, and the pumpkin ones in the shape of giant candy corn with orange, yellow, and white icing. And yesterday, after finding a stash of tiny walnut-sized lady apples at the market, I made a huge batch of mini caramel apples.”

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Book:Wedding Girl
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“The Bad Halloween: A Crazies Night Chronicle by Stewart Stafford I'm Rich—ambulance medic on Crazies Night, Demented chariot driver in the mediverse, Skeleton crew for swarms of ailing impostors, Our dashboard crucifix, buffeting every curse. Jittery, side-burned Jeff riding shotgun, I tease his grumbling about missing fun: "A toast with your Pumpkin Spice Latte! Breakfast on me when our shift is done." Behind us, a female living portrait groaned— Drunk or high, headfirst, she kissed the road. Mona Lisa frame unmounted for treatment, delirious spoilers dropped for The Da Vinci Code! Death's Reaper stood daring us in our path; graveyard shift, centre line, gleaming scythe. Brakes jammed, sirens blared, the prank waned— This gothic vigilante traffic cop waved us by! We dropped Patient Moaner at the hospital, Jeff smoked, and I ate canteen Colcannon, Our "bat signal" crackled, flashed in the cab: "Cosplay brawl at the Hotel Shannon." We drove off for more Boo-Boo Bus Bedlam to hit our Gotham's streets and tend the injured. Catherine wheel jack-o-lantern through windscreen; The Pumpkin Bomber’s cackle went unheard. Ears temporarily-deafened, thumbs up given; Faces, hands, arms burned—scarred medics. Flying glass cuts on our cheeks and necks: Carers now mummified patients: sideline critics. The first cracks of dawn chase shadows away; A Grand Grimoire yielding to Grey's Anatomy, Our carriage—the repair yard's hollow gourd, All-Saints sunrise feast to shed All Hallows' agony. On the Lord of Death's night, we didn't die: Weary defiance met coffee and pumpkin pie. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“The noodle/worm idea was appealing to me. I hadn't made pasta in the competition yet. And noodle kugel was a traditional Jewish dish that held tight to my heart... and could also be made to look extremely disturbing. To be honest, it could be a little gross-looking on the best of days. Noodles submerged in a creamy cheese base, some of them sticking up top to get crispy in the oven. Raisins or other fruits flecking the kugel like little bugs. Maybe I could make the whole thing graveyard-themed. If I was going to make something so rich and heavy and creamy, my other dish should balance it out by being light and savory. And spooky, of course. Maybe organ meats? Chicken feet were extremely scary-looking, maybe with some kind of beet sauce...”

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Book:Sadie on a Plate
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“I'd used vegetable dyes to color the entire thing a purple so deep it was almost black, the effect of which was fairly unappetizing... but perfect for Halloween, I hoped. I'd turned up the richness of the filling, aiming for a luxurious mouthfeel without being sickening, and made the whole thing more savory, dialing back on the sugar and adding garlic and onion and lots of fresh herbs to cut through the richness. I then rolled bites of it in a potato chip crust and deep-fried them, which sounded bizarre but worked. At least, I thought so. I held my breath as the judges crunched in and chewed thoughtfully. "I love this." Lenore Smith was blunt as always. "It's bizarre, but in all the best ways. The inside is melty and rich and savory, and the outside is perfectly crunchy and salty. It makes me think of an arancini." I was familiar with the fried Italian risotto balls, but I hadn't connected them to my dish until now.”

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Book:Sadie on a Plate
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“Connor Scarborough was a local legend. Unlike most of the Holloway High kids who had been going to school together their entire lives, Connor hadn’t shown up until halfway through eighth grade. And when he did, he stood out like a sore thumb. Not because he was the new kid or because of his fondness for black tank tops and denim jackets, but because of the scar. Red and jagged, it ran from beneath his bangs all the way down through his left eye to the middle of his cheek. And it didn’t take long at all for the stories to start. Or for the cruel nicknames to spread.”

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Book:Secondhand: And Other Stories
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“My dearest Evie, For tonight, I offer you a treasure no diamond can match: Eternal devotion, drawn from the deepest heart of the Bayou. They say love that dies violently can never be extinguished, only imprisoned. Eleven ancient specters rise from forgotten graves, and when the Eleven rise, know that their eternal commitment is now bound to you. They are the proof of my unending love. Yours, always and forever, Your Devoted Admirer.”

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Book:The Thirteen Days of Bayou Frights
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“It was scary, yes," she conceded, the initial chill of the fear finally dissolving. “But standing here now, knowing the effort, the planning, the sheer theatrical devotion involved... it was also, dare I say it, magnificent, in a way. I’m honestly, truly flattered. You gave me the Halloween of my dreams, even if it nearly sent me to the ER… or a psych ward.”

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Book:The Thirteen Days of Bayou Frights
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“There were fat cats and skinny cats. The long-tailed and the bobbed. The daring young leapers, and the old windowsill sleepers. Balls of waddling fluff, smooth-coated prowlers, and hairless ones that looked fragile and wise. The tiger-striped, the ring-tailed, and the ones with matching coloured socks and mittens. There were tabbies and calicos. Manx and Persians. Siamese and Bombay. Ragdolls and Birmans. Maine Coons and Russian Blues. There were Snowshoes and Somalis, Tonkinese and Turkish, and many, many more. Brown and beige and orange and grey and black and white and silver cats, each with gleaming eyes of emerald, or sapphire, or amber. A rainbow of precious stones.”

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Book:The Cat's Maw
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“As I'm smiling but fearing for the worse, he asks if I was in the Navy. "NO. THIS IS JUST MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME." "WELL, I WAS... FOR NEARLY TWENTY YEARS." I don't know whether he wants me to apologize for impersonating a sailor, thank him for his service, or stop drooling as I melt into his eyes”

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Book:Uninhibited From Lust To Love
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“Halloween children bear the blessing and curse of seeing through the veil separating the visible and invisible worlds. We recall with vivid clarity the sweet embrace of that which made us. We carry it with us even when we are told by others to fear it.”

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Book:The Magic of Tarot: Your Guide to Intuitive Readings, Rituals, and Spells
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“As the thing came closer, what was left of Nick’s body became revealed and I could see how the dead boy’s eyes had bled from the trauma inflicted upon him; they dripped with steady succession onto the floor between his splayed legs. He looked like a rejected marionette tossed haphazardly in the corner by a frustrated puppeteer, his head drooping so low that his chin rested against his chest. His motionless arms lay at his sides, both of them squeezed into tight fists, as if he’d died futilely trying to defend himself.”

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Book:The End of Summer: Thirteen Tales of Halloween
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“I should add, however, that, particularly on the occasion of Samhain, bonfires were lit with the express intention of scaring away the demonic forces of winter, and we know that, at Bealltainn in Scotland, offerings of baked custard were made within the last hundred and seventy years to the eponymous spirits of wild animals which were particularly prone to prey upon the flocks - the eagle, the crow, and the fox, among others. Indeed, at these seasons all supernatural beings were held in peculiar dread. It seems by no means improbable that these circumstances reveal conditions arising out of a later solar pagan worship in respect of which the cult of fairy was relatively greatly more ancient, and perhaps held to be somewhat inimical.”

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Book:British Fairy Origins
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“Owl Hollow Road by Stewart Stafford On a bracing night walk, On leafy Owl Hollow Road, A raspy voice whispered to me, Like a deep-croaking old toad. I moved rapidly on my path, And then heard phantom feet, Looked around, empty space, Only silence replaced the beat. At my most pressing pace now, A shadow pointed past my shoulder, An SUV slammed into my side, And I broke my back on a boulder. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“The Forbidden Place by Stewart Stafford Bypass the chateau on the hill, For, as dusk falls, horrors creep, Griffins and gargoyles fly and flay, And grotesque statues come alive. Badinage becomes shrieks and roars, Shrill warnings for the straying and foolish, Cats as big as panthers stalk and slay, As their homicidal master flogs their fur. Wandering werewolves fetch human bones, A savage rampage beneath a Hunter's Moon, As the dawn routine reasserts its dominance, Denizens of night bathe in darkness's arms. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“A Demon Over Crumpets by Stewart Stafford While taking tea with my physician father, He pressed me on what was ailing me, I imparted my supernatural experiences, Laughing, he recommended fresh air and rest. Just then, he stopped chewing his crumpet, A demon’s image scorched the wall beside us, I rushed over and scraped the hot soot away, And saw two bloodshot eyes surveying the room. I invoked the name of my protector, Jesus Christ, And bade the dark spirit leave us and, with that, The blackened image vanished from the wall, Crackling fireplace flames were the only sound. My father leapt up, made his excuses, and left, I last saw his stooping gait and balding pate, As they fled down the garden path by the hedge, Darting looks over his shoulder, he was gone. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Behind me, Mom busily cleaned out the refrigerator, making room for the groceries Dad was out buying. I was dying to tell her about the scary mask. I wanted to show it to her. Maybe put it on and make her scream. But I knew she’d ask too many questions about where I bought it, and how much it cost, and how much of my allowance I used up to pay for it. All questions I couldn’t answer.”

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Book:The Haunted Mask II
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