Top Ghosts Quotes

We wander in our thousands over theface of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond theseas our fame, our money, or only a crust of bread; but it seems to methat for each of us going...

I have been both a ghost and haunted in the city I love.

As I pen these words to leave a lasting record, I wonder myself where it all began.

Life writes the poetry, but it will always call for witnesses and scribes alike to tattoo its echoes upon the ghosts of trees.

Whiteness of moonlight builds a house that is not there

He specialized in a particular kind of friendship with that eight-limbed, inscrutable, treacherous creature, the happily married coupe, adapting himself closely and lightly to the composite personalit...

It's Halloween,The night we all play,Trick or treat,We won't go away.Be we ghoul or goblin, ghost,We'll knock on your door,To see who scares you the most.But cringe not in fear,Or cry out in pain,Caus...

Never go down to the darkest room. Stay far away from the rotting coffin. If you want to live through the night, let the devil sleep.

The house smelled musty and damp, and a little sweet, as if it were haunted by the ghosts of long-dead cookies.

If the creek predates the city deep in time, then is it right to identify the creek solely with the city? The city has forgotten the creek, as it's forgotten those who walk its side, but the creek did...

He takes a draw on a cigarette, blows out a smoky ghost. I reach to catch the phantom in my hands, but it eludes me. I've been trying to catch a ghost for as long as I can remember.

I was facing him before the last word was out, but I should have been dead by then. In a way I did die, right there, all that time ago, and this is a ghost who has been telling you stories and drinkin...

Do You know what ghosts are, Stuey? I’ll tell you. They’re secrets haunting the memories of the living. So long as we carry their secrets, they refuse to leave. They wait. Wait for what? To be forgott...

The mere mention of the Farakka Express, which jerks its way eastward each day from Delhi to Calcutta, is enough to throw even a seasoned traveller into fits of apoplexy. At a desert encampment on Nam...

Behind a barbed-wire fence, a dirt road disappears into the distance in the pine trees and corners. Lost, dead roads, no ends or remaining purposes, power lines now dead and sagging and forgotten, gro...

Rosehill was shady and beautiful, the most serene place I could imagine. It had been closed to the public for years, and sometimes as I wandered alone - and often lonely - through the lush fern beds a...

The flame of the inn is dim tonight,Too many vacant chairs.The sun has lost too much of its light,Too many songs have taken flight,Too many ghosts on the stairs.Charon, here's to you as man against ma...

Hazel frowned. Why that one?You don't see the ghost? Frank asked.Ghost? Nico asked.Okay... if Frank was seeing a ghost that the Underworld kids couldn't see, something was definitely wrong.

They told of dripping stone walls in uninhabited castles and of ivy-clad monastery ruins by moonlight, of locked inner rooms and secret dungeons, dank charnel houses and overgrown graveyards, of foots...

I believe ghost story writing is a dying art.