Monsters Quotes - Page 2

You're wondering if you have to prey on humans, if you can survive by drinking the blood of animals or other creatures. You're hoping you won't have to kill people to live. Am I right?

Losing maturity in one’s fiction for the sake of marvels and monsters can also mean losing propriety, and that’s not always a bad thing.

Nothing makes us love something more than the loss of it.

It was not accustomed to being summoned.

Monsters were real. They wore human flesh and looked out from behind the eyes of seemingly benign people. You passed them on the street every day, never knowing they'd marked you as prey until it was too late.

The only thing that will ever be real, is this moment,' I turned to the statue, 'when you made me feel alive, when you made me feel real, when I felt like you really love me. Now? I'm just your monster, Frankie. I will always be a monster.

I don't want your love unless you know I am repulsive, and love me even as you know it.

Tis true, Dr. Buzzard, that a silver bullet must be of the largest and heaviest sort to travel with any amount o’ range or accuracy. But after yon hellhound took no notice o’ my challenge or my first discharge, I said what was fitting with lead buckshot well-washed with silver that I’ve got from the most particular little shop in Birmingham. It didn’t like it.

Not all the monsters have fangs.

I welcome monsters into my bedand set a place for them at breakfast,leave sugar out for their coffeegoddamnI’ve always been so good at loving monsters

Every ghost has a story. Monsters are nothing without mythology.

I'm a little monster. Cuddling is my special attack. #cuddlemonster

She'd fall back asleep dreaming of hurricanes whipping the palm trees around her childhood home, trying to run from the Godzilla-sized beast that rushed to devour her. But her feet were stuck in invisible cement. As she struggled to scream, she'd startle awake and feel the staccato beats of her heart thumping double-time.Only then would she remember: she brought him into this world.- The Monster In Her Bedroom, Havok Magazine, Issue 1.1

We are very fond of books. You can learn nearly everything from them that rabbits can't teach you.

You want to put people in neat categories, make them monsters or angels, but it almost never works that way. You work in the gray and frankly that kinda sucks. The extremes are so much easier.

He fought to destroy those monsters, yet found they never seemed to die—rising anew every dawn.

The world is as I always intuited it to be: weird, fractured and full of monsters.

I have learned it’s best to face down the trouble. Otherwise it will grow into a monster. We don’t have time for monsters.

If the sleep of reason produces monsters, what does the sleep of unreason produce?