#horro

For he felt about the whole affair the touch somewhere of a great Outer Horror - and his scattered powers had not as yet had time to collect themselves into a definite attitude of fighting self-control. ("The Wendigo") ↗

— Algernon Blackwood

#supernatural #attitude

It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy--just different. There's nothing wrong with being different. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#artist #beauty #city-of-bones #crazy #different

Fantastic literature has been especially prominent in times of unrest, when the older values have been overthrown to make way for the new; it has often accompanied or predicted change, and served to shake up rational Complacency, challenging reason and reminding man of his darker nature. Its popularity has had its ups and downs, and it has always been the preserve of a small literary minority. As a natural challenger of classical values, it is rarely part of a culture's literary mainstream, expressing the spirit of the age; but it is an important dissenting voice, a reminder of the vast mysteries of existence, sometimes truly metaphysical in scope, but more often merely riddling. ↗

— Franz Rottensteiner

#fantastique #fantasy #genre #horror #literature

Death was a living creature. Death was a man tormented by his past. Death was once a human. ↗

— S.K.N. Hammerstone

#angel-of-death #angels-and-demons #horror #death

The loneliest place to spend eternity is your own life after you can't change it anymore." --Lucifer from Kevin ↗

— Bruce Jenvey

#paranormal-fiction #change

Neither spoke, but lat silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle. At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another; and at the same moment a knock came so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely audible, sounded on the front door. The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded through the house. ↗

— W.W. Jacobs

#horror #macabre #courage

When it's my time, and the reaper calls my name, there will be no stink of fear on me, and my only wish will be to die with grace, covered in the blood of my enemies. ↗

— Cedric Nye

#blood #death #fear #grace #horror

More accurately, on the bed and on the table lay various pieces of what had once been a body. Holmes was leaning with his back against the wall, his countenance deathly white. "The door was open," he said incongruously. "I was passing by, and the door was open." "Holmes," I whispered in horror. "The door was open," he said once more, and then buried his face in his hands. ↗

— Lyndsay Faye

#horror #john-watson #sherlock-holmes #death

Within its gates I heard the sound Of winds in cypress caverns caught Of huddling tress that moaned, and sought To whisper what their roots had found. (“A Dream of Fear”) ↗

— George Sterling

#graveyard #horror #scary #supernatural #trees

Darnell had received what is called a sound commercial education, and would therefore have found very great difficulty in putting into articulate speech any thought that was worth thinking; ↗

— Arthur Machen

#supernatural #education