Are you asking if I believe in ghosts?" "I don't know. Maybe. Yes." "Of course not. Imagine how many there'd be." "Yes," Kirsten said, "that's exactly it.
For all the ghosts and corpses that shall never know the breath of our children so long for the sacrifice and endurance of our mothers and the sustained breath of our fathers we live
You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories....
Goldenrod Moram had a first name that sounded like it belonged in the middle of a fairy tale, where she would be the dazzling princess in need of rescuing.
From the first she showed a curious sensitivity to what, I suppose, may be called the 'influences' of the place. She said it 'smelled' of ghosts and warlocks.
Dangers were no more than odd imaginings, like ghost stories that children made up to frighten one another: things that couldn't possibly happen.
Sometimes people graduate but they don't leave. They hang around for years, for no reason. I would think of ghosts like that, I decided.
MURRY: I believe in a lot of things. Santa Claus, magic, vampires, and even ghosts but I don't believe in luck. Good or bad.
I suppose you really don't need those wires they used tonight, huh?" she said. "I'm a vampire, not a ghost." He seemed offended.
So we gave up. I'd finally had enough of chasing after a ghost who did not want to be seen. We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.
Because I see A rainstorm in June Just before the sun The black of night Just before the stars And, girl, I see your ghost Just before our dawn
Some people will tell you werewolves can only shapechange under a full moon, but people also say there's no such things as ghosts.
There are humans, and there are ghosts. Vampires are just in a different state of transition. Not part of the human world and not part of the spirit world. We are just caught somewhere in between life and the real death.
We have no need for genius - genius is dead. We have need for strong hands, for spirits who are willing to give up the ghost and put on flesh...
Ghosts could walk freely tonight, without fear of the disbelief of men; for this night was haunted, and it would be an insensitive man who did not know it.
Everything was quiet now. It was even too freaky quiet. The house seemed big without anyone else inside. It felt lonely; like a ghost town.
He was trying to tell me something." Derek snorted. "Aren’t they all? Must be a rule in the ghost handbook—if in danger of evaporating, make sure you’re in the middle of a dire pronouncement.
I am the ghost in the empty jar. My silence belongs in the cemetery, just like all my ex girlfriends. Long live love!
The stranger was as white as a gallon of milk, and I felt the desire to pour his soul into my coffee. I’d drink him like the ghost of my grandpa.
Wombed in sin darkness I was too, made not begotten. By them, the man with my voice and my eyes and a ghost-woman with ashes on her breath. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will.
Anything disguised as anything is chameleon. A ghost disguised as an unobservable and invisible object is a great example. Still, that’s easier to see than the love my ex wife had for me.
