Woodward and Bernstein,” Jared said from seemingly nowhere.“What?”“They were just two reporters. Yet, they broke the Watergate scandal. They toppled an administration. That’s us.”“We’re Woodward and Bernstein.” Alec said, pointing between him and Jared.“Woodward, Bernstein, and Lucy,” Lucy corrected.
The dead are jealous, jealous, jealous and they will do anything to keep you from the living, the lucky living. They will argue with you, and distract you, and if that doesn't work, they will even let you hug them, and dance for you, and kiss you, and laugh, anything to keep you. The dead are selfish. Jealous. Lonely. Desperate. Hungry. ("The Chambered Fruit")
«Non farà male come credi».Ci sono giorni in cui molti si ritrovano a pronunciare una frase del genere. Dottori, maestre, poliziotti, i professionisti più svariati.La giovane donna rannicchiata sul pavimento non era comunque pronta. Di certo non si sarebbe mai aspettata che a dirle una frase del genere sarebbe stato proprio il suo assassino.
The Kahn spoke to his disfigured expert. Mal-Greb, confused at first, listened, nodded and bowed his head like the slave he was. Jani Beg momentarily seized with energy grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and breathed into his face “Hurl them back to Hell!”The wild look in the Kahn’s eyes was something that Mal-Greb understood.And so they began.
Good horror is written by people who understand that fear is one of the cardinal passageways into the core of humanity. Good horror is generally written by folks who grew up on horror; books, movies, etc. You can’t simply decide to write—in any genre—if you don’t first have an understanding of the topic and a strong mental backlog of reference.
The rivers had been drained overnight and what was left were things no person should have to image let alone see. She had been smart enough to stay away. But, other humans— were curious. They saw and the image planted in their heads made them bait for the demons.When they extended their hands and offered them peace of mind, the humans accepted without hesitation.
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.
There's so many kids," he said low enough so only Jessica could hear. "We're going to walk right into them in two more steps."If it gave Jessica pause, he didn't sense it. Instead she seemed to pull him faster.A frigid hand closed around his heart, freezing the ebb and flow of his blood.Eddie gasped, overcome with the chill of a thousand deep, dark graves.
Spittle flew from Jango’s lips as he shouted at the man in a woman’s voice that sounded like it was made of cyanide and sugar that had been laced with the patter of blood dripping on an abattoir floor, “This is the truth about The Killer, ain’t it baby? You’re just a big ol’ bag of screams under all that big, bad muscle, ain’t you?
It feels as though Tony's a ghost, a wisp of someone I once loved, or never loved at all and thought was someone else. I don't feel anything, not even when he fucks me. I wonder if he knows. I wonder if he believes I still want him. I always tell myself it's the last time, but I don't leave. i exist instead inside this shell of a life we've created.
It had been a bad trip ... fast and wild in some moments, slow and dirty in others, but on balance it looked like a bummer. On my way back to San Francisco, I tried to compose a fitting epitaph. I wanted something original, but there was no escaping the echo of Mistah Kurtz' final words from the heart of darkness: "The horror! The horror! ... Exterminate all the brutes!
The town knew about darkness. It knew about the darkness that comes on the land when rotation hides the land from the sun, and about the darkness of the human soul. The town is an accumulation of three parts which, in sum, are greater than the sections. The town is the people who live there, the buildings which they have erected to den or do business in, and it is the land.
=> When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile.=> Never tell your problems to anyone...20% don't care and the other 80% are glad you have them.=> It's true that we don't know what we've got until we loseit, but it's also true that we don't know what we've beenmissing until it arrives.
You have the right to remain silent,' the big cop said in his robot's voice. 'If you do not choose to remain silent, anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. I'm going to kill you. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights as I have explained them to you?
Unlike the rest he had seen of the bungalow, the hall beyond the door was dark. He could see the glimmer of three doors and several framed photographs lined up along the walls. The sound of flies was louder, though they didn’t seem to be in the hall itself. Now that he was closer they sounded even more like someone groaning feebly, and the rotten smell was stronger too.
