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Horror Authors Quotes

Browse 183 quotes about Horror Authors.

Horror Authors Quotes

“It rises from the funeral pyre of rubble, ash, and scorched memories to stare Max in the eyeballs, stand right over him in his lonely bed and whisper a hissing, fire-branding warning in his dreams, ‘Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust…’ over and over again, so close to his face he can feel the heat emanating from the fiery lick of its tongue. Fireman is trying to tell him something he already knows, but Max doesn’t know it yet. Wake up, damn you! It’s staring you in the face…”

“Признаюсь, я не дуже багато прочитала книг за своє життя, точніше я би сказала мало і не завжди чогось якісного. Але якщо подумати, якби інтернету не існувало, я би прочитала вже неймовірну кількість книг, - і ця думка ошарашує мене. Наче мені дали смарт окуляри з майбутнього, в яких я бачу далі ніж інші люди.. Також сумно мені, тому що інтернет це звісно круто, дуже круто, але як не крути, книги краще. Я відкрила для себе стільки дивовижних книг, з яких дізналася того, чого не дізналася в інтернеті! І ще скільки всього там чекає на мене... "Ви читаєте книгу, якої немає. Burned by russians. 29.12”

“The 14-year-old could see her standing by the table she used as a stand, an old armchair propped up on it, and the face of concentration on his mother as she tucked her hair behind the ear that was now a part of this island, out there tonight, feeding the ants and other carnivorous creepy-crawlies. Little by little, they were all becoming part of the island, they were the flies and Crab was the spider, chomp, chomp!”

“The drunk watched it come from between the man’s lips, a small nebulous cloud that kind of looked like the foreigner was blowing a bubble of fog in his unconscious state. The shroud floated silently from his lips and hovered over his chest, almost sitting on his sternum. In the adjacent cell, Connie forgot to breathe when he saw a face — a woman’s face — manifest in the cloud, looking about the cell in slow motion. The long lank hair, albino white, hung about her doughy pale face in wet strands. The closed mouth was too wide for the face and didn’t appear to have lips, just a thin line curving into a vague amphibious Mona Lisa smile which took Connie back five decades to his childhood pet frog, Leap. The black eyes moved slowly about the room, left and right. That nightmarish countenance turned to Connie and held him in its vacant gaze. He saw how the mouth opened and closed, almost like a fish…or was she saying something to him? The eyes weren’t completely black. Connie made out a fine ring of white around the rims of those hallucinogenic pupils. Her eyes were two solar eclipses.”

“The rhythmic creak of quiet footsteps came from the other side of the door. Ruth paused before bowing down to peer through the same keyhole her son had looked through. There was nothing in there except an empty room in worse condition than theirs, peeling walls, mould, grime, no bed, no nothing, save for an undeniable draught of melancholy blowing through the keyhole.”

“And for a very brief moment, the boy thought he was the audience at a strange black light theatre play, where the daemonic hand puppets come up out of the ground from screaming Hell far below. If they were the hand puppets of brooding horror, then the 14-year-old could only imagine the demon’s hands up inside them, working their innards.”