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Psychological Thriller Quotes

Browse 182 quotes about Psychological Thriller.

Psychological Thriller Quotes

“My husband hands me my glass, full to the brim with green-gold wine and I stifle my resentment and attempt to smile at him. I mustn’t lose sight of what we have – two beautiful children; an amazing house that I never, in a million years, thought we’d be able to afford; Gill and Andy, my best friends – and this perfect day. I take a deep breath and feel my shoulders relax. I can smell the faintest trace of heather, drifting down from the moor.”

“The moor has always been part of my life. It’s like a muse: the colours of the heather and the sky; how you can see the savagery of the wind in the way the dwarf pine trees are bent double, the bleak lines of the landscape in winter when everything save the moss and the grass are dead, stones like bones, poking through a thin skin of bilberry bushes, rushes reflected in black bog water.”

“He places the skull in the palm of my hand. There are four canines; the top two are so long and curved I can feel them pricking my skin. There’s a green tinge round the eye socket and in a fine line across the cranium. I’m not sure what animal it’s from. ‘Stoat,’ Harris says, as if I’ve spoken out loud. ‘They hunt grouse and partridge. I found it behind my house. I buried the body in the furze until it was just bone.’ His hand is still beneath mine, supporting it. I think of him seeing the small dead creature and digging a tiny grave for it. Planning ahead for all those months just so he’d see the skeleton. Or maybe he severed the animal’s head and that was the only part he buried. ‘It’s been waiting for you all this time. Like I have.”

“She shivers. ‘I can’t understand why anyone would want to live out there. You’d be totally isolated.’
 I do. I could imagine waking up each day and instead of looking out of the window and seeing the moor in the distance, you’d be in the heart of it, feeling the wind turn, the storm rage, the rain lash, hear the plovers piping.”

“Virginia screamed, grabbing for the door handle and nearly throwing herself from the moving car. James swerved to the side of the road, slamming on the brakes before she killed herself trying to escape. As it was, she flung herself from the car, falling to her knees and scrambling to her feet. Then she ran. Took off like a bolt until she rounded the bend and disappeared from view. 'Way to go, slick,' AJ said snarkily, climbing into the front seat. 'You ran her off.”

“Idly, in the strange purgatory between reality and the dream realm, I ponder the absurdity of these last few hours. I killed him, we buried him. And yet, our thoughts and actions are as if nothing happened... A sardonic thought settles in the milky haze of my exhausted delirium. I became a woman today. But whose blood truly signified it?”

“Something strange happens about dreams that Gloria has – the real world seems to get mixed up into the dreams and the dreams seem all the more real – with part of your mind you’re aware of what’s going on around you, but part of your mind is drifting and things start to get mixed up. What I’m trying to say is that the human mind has developed a safety valve and dreaming is really the unconscious mind (me in this case) clearing up the debris it has otherwise been unable to cope with on the conscious level – if this is so, then tonight’s dreams became like “a horror show” in which Gloria and I were literally imprisoned.” Gloria’s Helper”

“I know if I died tonight, I would die a happy man at peace with myself knowing Gloria’s story would finally be told—a mysterious and astonishing story that defies the timeworn precepts of modern psychology and psychiatry—where insanity, genius, the metaphysical, and the mystery of life come together to beguile and confound our contemporary understanding of the mind and its limitless powers to heal. Dr. Adam Jaxon”

“Quietus Interruptus by Stewart Stafford I've just seen a live mugshot, A home intruder demands I know, Crack out knuckle-dusters or mace, Miscreant justice cold and slow. Should I invite him in to breakfast? Serve rich Eggs à la Pepper Spray! Thump him with my coffee mug, To end this castle siege for the day. An amateur matador from this bull fled, I see frosted breath in a neighbour’s garden, Shirked his curtain call in a magenta dawn, Not even a disingenuous “I beg your pardon!” © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“When we got married, I poured all my energy into turning myself into the wife he wanted. I never wore my hair up, because he'd commented that my ears were big. I let him answer questions when we had company, because he'd said I tended to ramble. I felt like a human-shaped shell, hollowing myself out for my husband so he could fill me with his own likes and desires. I make a mental note to myself—find some real friends.”