It was at the outskirts of the world that the Old Things accumulated, like driftwood round the edges of the sea. ("The Troll")

It was a soulless gaze, burning with a wild hatred that shouldn’t be there in anyone who could call themselves a parent.

I'm guessing you're tits deep in a horror novel. Something by Laymon, or Ketchum, or one of those sick fucks you read.

You presume to name those who have no name. We are pandemonium and disaster. We are the dancing, gibbering horror of the world.

They walked through the rainy dark like gaunt ghosts, and Garraty didn't like to look at them. They were the walking dead.

I had a million different dreams but none of them was stronger than the rest. In the end they probably would have paralyzed me.

If that other fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me.

She had come into the garden expecting summer roses and had instead been caught in a bank of twisted, thorny, frostbitten vines.

Wenn man meine Seele zeichnen könnte, wäre es irgendein wildes Gekritzel mit deutlich sichtbaren Reißzähnen.

Harley's eyes widened in horror, and a low moan of fear escaped his mouth. The back alley was filled with a vision from Hell.

So I suggest you stick close, pay attention, and avoid breaking the Terrorverse's only commandment: Thou shall not be stupid.

Sulphurous wind gusted in his wake; the dust of the street swirled and the folds of his black coat flapped against his thin body.

Fear blossomed within her - not like a flower, but like blood welling from a gunshot wound, spreading throughout her entire body.

Good horror offers a sense of an upended, lawless world and that’s appealing to anyone who grew up feeling like an outsider.

O little one, My little one, Come with me, Your life is done. Forget the future, Forget the past. Life is over: Breathe your last.