ghost

Link	Quote	Tags	Author
8b246ed	When a lost loved one appears before you, it's your brain that fights it, not your heart.	ghost lost-love	Mitch Albom
688819b	Lord Snow wants to take my place now.' He sneered. 'I'd have an easier time teaching a wolf to juggle than you will training this aurochs.' 'I'll take that wager, Ser Alliser', Jon said. 'I'd love to see Ghost juggle.	a-song-of-ice-and-fire bold george-r-r-martin ghost jon-snow ser-alliser	George R.R. Martin
fa4159a	The study of mathematics is apt to commence in disappointment... We are told that by its aid the stars are weighed and the billions of molecules in a drop of water are counted. Yet, like the ghost of Hamlet's father, this great science eludes the efforts of our mental weapons to grasp it.	ghost grasp hamlet math mathematics mental molecules science shakespeare stars study william-shakespeare	Alfred North Whitehead
5b7fce3	"No," she said. "You are not Patrick Swayze. I am not Demi Moore." She touched a switch on the little box and it started ticking. "And this sure as hell isn't pottery class."	ghost harry-dresden karrin-murphy patrick-swayze	Jim Butcher
8e4ecc6	"Imagine for a moment that you are the proud owner of a large house which you have spent years of your life painting and decorating and filling with everything you love. It's your home. It's something you've made your own, something for you to be remembered by, something that, perhaps years later, your children and grandchildren can visit and get a view of your life in. It's part of your creativity, your hard work... it's your property. Now suppose you decide to go camping for a couple of weeks. You lock your door and assume that nobody is going to break in... but they do, and when you return home, to your horror you find that not only do these trespassers break in, but they also have quite uniquely imaginative ways of disrespecting, vandalizing and corrupting everything within your property. They light fires on your lawn, your topiary hedges are in heaps of black ashes. There's some blatantly obscene graffiti splattered across your front door, offensive images and rude words splashed on the walls and windows. Your television has been tipped over. Your photographs of family and friends have had the heads cut out of them. There's mold growing in the refrigerator, bottles of booze tipped over on the table, and cigarette smoke embedded into the carpeting. Your beloved houseplants are dead, your furniture has been stripped down and ruined. Basically, the thing you've spent years working for and creating within your lifetime has been tampered with to the point where it is just a grim joke.	books copyright fanfiction funny geek ghost grave house imagine metaphor pervy respect sherlock vandalism	Rebecca McNutt
0541855	I take up my own pen again - the pen of all my old unforgettable efforts and sacred struggles. To myself - today - I need say no more. Large and full and high the future still opens. It is now indeed that I may do the work of my life. And I will.	ghost horror work	Henry James
66630d0	She walked with a ghost of herself, one full of potential and possibility. One who was fearless. Where had that girl gone?	ghost girl romantic white	Nora Roberts
8af855c	At least I rescued your poor hot dog.	coming-of-age disturbing fire frightening funny ghost ghoul gives-me-the-willies goosebumps grief hot-dog humor laugh lonely lord madness nostalgia pyrokinesis rescue savior scary sleepaway-camp spooky summer-camp teen teenage wiener wiener-roast	R.L. Stine
e3b4c57	"But," expostulated Josiah Worthington. "But. A human child. A living child. I mean. I mean, I mean. This is a graveyard, not a nursery, blast it."	ghost graveyard josiah-worthington neil-gaiman	Neil Gaiman
7a7b2e9	Sometimes Geraldine feels like she can drive forever. Maybe that's partially why she took a job at Milo General Motors. Driving is the best means of escape that the human race has, at least, that's her opinion. She's never had the guts to try drugs before, both because her sister was a junkie in the last few months she knew her, and because she's heard the overdose horror stories, seen 'Requiem for a Dream', smelled the vapours of a meth lab that Julia's boyfriend built, heard the crunching glass of crack vials and heroine needles when they happen to break. Even this alone is too surreal, not to mention that if she were high or tripping on acid or whatever the drug of choice may be, this would give the ghosts more power to morph into something even more nightmarish than they already are.	car car-dealership cocaine crack drive druggie drugs escapism ghost junkie needle nightmare requiem-for-a-dream surreal	Rebecca McNutt
f3629a7	"Um, thanks," Jackson told her. "And your name is...?" "I'm Margaret, Margaret Van Der Graaf," she answered with another eerie smile. Her teeth were so white that they looked bleached. "Van Der Graaf?" Jackson repeated, trying to stifle his laughter. He didn't want to be rude to the only person in sight, to this kind-hearted stranger who was offering to help him, but... Van Der Graaf? "What are you laughing at?" Margaret asked with curiosity, flashing him a calculating gaze. "I like my name. If you're going to be a jerk, then I won't help you. You can stay out here on the street through the night for all I care." "...Harsh," said Jackson, giving her a quizzical glance back. There was something 'off' about her, something that Jackson couldn't quite place, something that bordered on horrible loneliness and longing. "Who else lives here, Margaret Van Der Graaf?" He couldn't resist saying her name aloud. Despite its hilarity, it had a nice ring to it. "Who else lives here?" he urged. "Me, myself and I," said Margaret simply, snickering when she saw his horrified and annoyed expression"	comedy friendship funny ghost humor longing lonliness name smile stranger weird	Rebecca McNutt
990f051	The doctor from the mainland came and went. Silence settled over the island again, like a displaced curtain falling back in thickened, heavier folds. For there was a different quality in the silence now. It had tasted something, rich food on which it had long been thinly rationed. Shadowy things were trooping up, called by that scent of blood, like flies that smell carrion. They were not strangers to the old house; they had been ill-fed and at a distance, now they were hungry and avid and near.	ghost horro supernatural	Evangeline Walton
b724084	What the hell kind of Hell was this supposed to be?	funny ghost hell	Jim Butcher
d543137	Que dormia, acurrucada, metiendose dentro de el, perdida en la nada al sentir que se quebraba su carne, que se abria como un surco abierto por un clavo ardoroso, luego tibio, luego dulce dando golpes duros contra su carne blanda; sumiendose mas, hasta el gemido.	death ghost love méxico	Juan Rulfo
dbec7b2	This was my dad, for gosh sakes! After not seeing him for two years, I had finally found him-in another dimension playing chess with a ghost! How was I supposed to calm down?	dad dimension ghost	John McNichol
871c944	I looked at Liam. He choked on a laugh.	chloe dead ghost liam	Kelley Armstrong
eecfb07	said a voice beside me. I jumped so high, my heart rammed into my throat. Derek said again. Liam stopped. He looked at me, then at his body, on the ground. He swore.	dead derek ghost liam	Kelley Armstrong

When a lost loved one appears before you, it's your brain that fights it, not your heart.

Mitch Albom

688819b

Lord Snow wants to take my place now.' He sneered. 'I'd have an easier time teaching a wolf to juggle than you will training this aurochs.' 'I'll take that wager, Ser Alliser', Jon said. 'I'd love to see Ghost juggle.

a-song-of-ice-and-fire bold george-r-r-martin ghost jon-snow ser-alliser

George R.R. Martin

fa4159a

The study of mathematics is apt to commence in disappointment... We are told that by its aid the stars are weighed and the billions of molecules in a drop of water are counted. Yet, like the ghost of Hamlet's father, this great science eludes the efforts of our mental weapons to grasp it.

ghost grasp hamlet math mathematics mental molecules science shakespeare stars study william-shakespeare

Alfred North Whitehead

5b7fce3

"No," she said. "You are not Patrick Swayze. I am not Demi Moore." She touched a switch on the little box and it started ticking. "And this sure as hell isn't pottery class."

ghost harry-dresden karrin-murphy patrick-swayze

Jim Butcher

8e4ecc6

"Imagine for a moment that you are the proud owner of a large house which you have spent years of your life painting and decorating and filling with everything you love. It's your home. It's something you've made your own, something for you to be remembered by, something that, perhaps years later, your children and grandchildren can visit and get a view of your life in. It's part of your creativity, your hard work... it's your property. Now suppose you decide to go camping for a couple of weeks. You lock your door and assume that nobody is going to break in... but they do, and when you return home, to your horror you find that not only do these trespassers break in, but they also have quite uniquely imaginative ways of disrespecting, vandalizing and corrupting everything within your property. They light fires on your lawn, your topiary hedges are in heaps of black ashes. There's some blatantly obscene graffiti splattered across your front door, offensive images and rude words splashed on the walls and windows. Your television has been tipped over. Your photographs of family and friends have had the heads cut out of them. There's mold growing in the refrigerator, bottles of booze tipped over on the table, and cigarette smoke embedded into the carpeting. Your beloved houseplants are dead, your furniture has been stripped down and ruined. Basically, the thing you've spent years working for and creating within your lifetime has been tampered with to the point where it is just a grim joke.

books copyright fanfiction funny geek ghost grave house imagine metaphor pervy respect sherlock vandalism

Rebecca McNutt

0541855

I take up my own pen again - the pen of all my old unforgettable efforts and sacred struggles. To myself - today - I need say no more. Large and full and high the future still opens. It is now indeed that I may do the work of my life. And I will.

ghost horror work

Henry James

66630d0

She walked with a ghost of herself, one full of potential and possibility. One who was fearless. Where had that girl gone?

ghost girl romantic white

Nora Roberts

8af855c

At least I rescued your poor hot dog.

coming-of-age disturbing fire frightening funny ghost ghoul gives-me-the-willies goosebumps grief hot-dog humor laugh lonely lord madness nostalgia pyrokinesis rescue savior scary sleepaway-camp spooky summer-camp teen teenage wiener wiener-roast

R.L. Stine

e3b4c57

"But," expostulated Josiah Worthington. "But. A human child. A living child. I mean. I mean, I mean. This is a graveyard, not a nursery, blast it."

ghost graveyard josiah-worthington neil-gaiman

Neil Gaiman

7a7b2e9

Sometimes Geraldine feels like she can drive forever. Maybe that's partially why she took a job at Milo General Motors. Driving is the best means of escape that the human race has, at least, that's her opinion. She's never had the guts to try drugs before, both because her sister was a junkie in the last few months she knew her, and because she's heard the overdose horror stories, seen 'Requiem for a Dream', smelled the vapours of a meth lab that Julia's boyfriend built, heard the crunching glass of crack vials and heroine needles when they happen to break. Even this alone is too surreal, not to mention that if she were high or tripping on acid or whatever the drug of choice may be, this would give the ghosts more power to morph into something even more nightmarish than they already are.

car car-dealership cocaine crack drive druggie drugs escapism ghost junkie needle nightmare requiem-for-a-dream surreal

Rebecca McNutt

f3629a7

"Um, thanks," Jackson told her. "And your name is...?" "I'm Margaret, Margaret Van Der Graaf," she answered with another eerie smile. Her teeth were so white that they looked bleached. "Van Der Graaf?" Jackson repeated, trying to stifle his laughter. He didn't want to be rude to the only person in sight, to this kind-hearted stranger who was offering to help him, but... Van Der Graaf? "What are you laughing at?" Margaret asked with curiosity, flashing him a calculating gaze. "I like my name. If you're going to be a jerk, then I won't help you. You can stay out here on the street through the night for all I care." "...Harsh," said Jackson, giving her a quizzical glance back. There was something 'off' about her, something that Jackson couldn't quite place, something that bordered on horrible loneliness and longing. "Who else lives here, Margaret Van Der Graaf?" He couldn't resist saying her name aloud. Despite its hilarity, it had a nice ring to it. "Who else lives here?" he urged. "Me, myself and I," said Margaret simply, snickering when she saw his horrified and annoyed expression"

comedy friendship funny ghost humor longing lonliness name smile stranger weird

Rebecca McNutt

990f051

The doctor from the mainland came and went. Silence settled over the island again, like a displaced curtain falling back in thickened, heavier folds. For there was a different quality in the silence now. It had tasted something, rich food on which it had long been thinly rationed. Shadowy things were trooping up, called by that scent of blood, like flies that smell carrion. They were not strangers to the old house; they had been ill-fed and at a distance, now they were hungry and avid and near.

ghost horro supernatural

Evangeline Walton

b724084

What the hell kind of Hell was this supposed to be?

funny ghost hell

Jim Butcher

d543137

Que dormia, acurrucada, metiendose dentro de el, perdida en la nada al sentir que se quebraba su carne, que se abria como un surco abierto por un clavo ardoroso, luego tibio, luego dulce dando golpes duros contra su carne blanda; sumiendose mas, hasta el gemido.

death ghost love méxico

Juan Rulfo

dbec7b2

This was my dad, for gosh sakes! After not seeing him for two years, I had finally found him-in another dimension playing chess with a ghost! How was I supposed to calm down?

dad dimension ghost

John McNichol

871c944

I looked at Liam. He choked on a laugh.

chloe dead ghost liam

Kelley Armstrong

eecfb07

said a voice beside me. I jumped so high, my heart rammed into my throat. Derek said again. Liam stopped. He looked at me, then at his body, on the ground. He swore.

dead derek ghost liam

Kelley Armstrong