Hellraiser Quotes

“But can one actually see beauty with eyes blurred by the lack of almost everything a human being needs?”
― Paulo Lins, City of God

“A skin was nothing. Pigs had skins; snakes had skins. They were knitted of dead cells, shed and grown and shed again. But a name? That was a spell, which summoned memories.”
― Clive Barker, The Hellbound Heart

“I found a brief piece of by Antonio Vivaldi around this time which became my ‘Pinhead Mood Music’. Called Al Santo Sepolcro (At The Holy Sepulchre), it opens more like a piece of modern orchestral music, and although it it moves toward Vivaldi’s familiar harmonies, there is always the threat that it will fall back into dissonance. The piece progresses in an exquisite agony, poised on a knife edge between beauty and disfigurement, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain. Perfect.”
― Doug Bradley, Behind the Mask of the Horror Actor

“Most modern men want sex and can’t have it. They want success and never get it.
They want money and never earn enough. Everybody has desires and nobody—
Except the psychopathic few— Has the guts to go out and just take what they want.”
—Professor Michael Friday”
― Barbie Wilde, The Venus Complex

“Allí el placer era dolor, y viceversa. Y él lo conocía tan bien que era como sentirse en casa.”
― Clive Barker, The Hellbound Heart

“He was mystery, he was darkness, he was all she had dreamed of. And if she would only free him he would service her -oh yes- until her pleasure reached that thereshold that, like all theresholds, was a place where the strong grew stronger, and the weak perished.”
― Clive Barker, The Hellbound Heart

“The Great Carouser by Stewart Stafford

The Great Carouser approaches,
His belly as stacked cheddar rolls,
Used as a springboard for lust,
And a battering ram for tavern doors.

Shrieks of terror and welcome,
Greet his arrival with ale demands,
Tankards clank and merriment begins,
Lewd ditties and jokes by the bar.

Balancing acts on tables,
With tongues held hostage,
By braggadocio squatters,
In an intoxicated stranglehold.

Slurred speech and equilibrium loss,
Signal festivities end for the gang,
Staggering out into the starlit street,
Partners on each arm for shady exertions.

Then waking as if mauled by a bear,
A quick drink and a greasy feast initiated,
For the strange girls snoring in his bed,
The Great Carouser has struck again.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“She knew he was telling the truth, the kind of unsavoury truth that only monsters were at liberty to tell. He had no need to flatter or cajole; he had no philosophy to debate, or sermon to deliver. His awful nakedness was a kind of sophistication. Past the lies of faith, and into purer realms.”
― Clive Barker