Scary Stories Quotes

“It was achingly sad. A grand house that would never be a home again, abandoned and unloved, left to its own devices.”
― Kelly Covic, Insomnia

“The house had claimed many victims in its two centuries. Ate them, consumed, and devoured. Tortured souls like idle playthings. Terrorized visitors by the whim of its moods.”
― Kelly Covic, Insomnia

“It was as if the previous owner had covered everything and…left. Not only abandoning the house, but their belongings, also.”
― Kelly Covic, Insomnia

“I long for insomnia or the nightmares again. At least then, I knew I was alive.”
― Kelly Covic, Insomnia

“Telling scary stories is something people have done for thousands of years, for most of us like being scared in that way. Since there isn't any danger, we think it is fun.”
― Alvin Schwartz, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

“The lighthouse lantern had been burning a lifetime, a beacon for love’s safe return. For a man who had, in fact, made it back home, just not alive.”
― Kelly Covic, Insomnia

“She drifted down the walk carelessly for a moment, stunned by the night. The moon had come out, and though not dramatically full or a perfect crescent, its three quarters were bright enough to turn the fog and dew and all that had the power to shimmer a bright silver, and everything else- the metal of the streetlamps, the gates, the cracks in the cobbles- a velvety black.
After a moment Wendy recovered from the strange beauty and remembered why she was there. She padded into the street before she could rethink anything and pulled up her hood. "Why didn't I do this earlier?" she marveled. Sneaking out when she wasn't supposed to was its own kind of adventure, its own kind of magic. London was beautiful. It felt like she had the whole city to herself except for a stray cat or two.
Despite never venturing beyond the neighborhood much by herself, she had plenty of time with maps, studying them for someday adventures. And as all roads lead to Rome, so too do all the major thoroughfares wind up at the Thames. Names like Vauxhall and Victoria (and Horseferry) sprang from her brain as clearly as if there had been signs in the sky pointing the way.
Besides Lost Boys and pirates, Wendy had occasionally terrified her brothers with stories about Springheel Jack and the half-animal orphan children with catlike eyes who roamed the streets at night. As the minutes wore on she felt her initial bravery dissipate and terror slowly creep down her neck- along with the fog, which was also somehow finding its way under her coat, chilling her to her core.
"If I'm not careful I'm liable to catch a terrible head cold! Perhaps that's really why people don't adventure out in London at night," she told herself sternly, chasing away thoughts of crazed, dagger-wielding murderers with a vision of ugly red runny noses and cod-liver oil.
But was it safer to walk down the middle of the street, far from shadowed corners where villains might lurk? Being exposed out in the open meant she would be more easily seen by police or other do-gooders who would try to escort her home.
"My mother is sick and requires this one particular tonic that can only be obtained from the chemist across town," she practiced. "A nasty decoction of elderberries and slippery elm, but it does such wonders for your throat. No one else has it. And do you know how hard it is to call for a cab this time of night? In this part of town? That's the crime, really."
In less time than she imagined it would take, Wendy arrived at a promenade that overlooked the mighty Thames. She had never seen it from that particular angle before or at that time of night. On either bank, windows of all the more important buildings glowed with candles or gas lamps or even electric lights behind their icy panes, little tiny yellow auras that lifted her heart.
"I do wish I had done this before," she breathed.
Maybe if she had, then things wouldn't have come to this...”
― Liz Braswell, Straight On Till Morning

“For most, ghost hunting was a few steps escalated from telling scary stories around a campfire.”
― Thomm Quackenbush, Flies to Wanton Boys

“It was the real darkness of hell for all of us. I think
even the devil himself prayed with us.”
― Veronica Braila, Blue House: Ten Years on The Way Home

“Scary stories protect us.

They have since the beginning of story itself. That's what they were made for.
And children, especially, need scary stories. They keep children away dangerous places and dubious people. The old folk stories of nixies kept children away from the edges of dangerous waters. Tales of ghosts to this day keep children away from abandoned, tetanus-filled houses. Stories of the Candy Man keep them from talking to strangers.

If we keep children away from scary stories, we are doing them a disservice. These books warn them against things that busy adults might have failed to mention. Moms and Dads and Schools are often afraid to talk about monsters and boogeymen, because they are afraid of scaring the children. But scary books for don't mind doling out a good scare- that's their job, after all, and they do it better than anyone else.”
― Kaylin R. Boyd

“This individual was a lone wolf and there was a lot to be said for lone wolves, but even more went unsaid and that’s the part that unnerved them.”
― Jonathan Dunne, Fireman

“Where broken hearts, bad promises, and deadly passions come alive… and then are laid beautifully to rest.”
― NKMA Studio, Loveland: Horror Anthology of Obsession, Death, & Paranormal Stories Volume 1