Creepy Quotes

“It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most women do not creep by daylight.”
― Charlotte Perkins Gilman, The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories

“Death twitches my ear;
'Live,' he says...
'I'm coming.”
― Virgil

“I discovered that what most people call creepy, scary, and spooky, I call comfy, cozy, and home.”
― Zak Bagans, Dark World: Into the Shadows with the Lead Investigator of The Ghost Adventures Crew

“We feel most alive when we are closest to death.”
― Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape

“You will be wondering about that sugar bowl, I imagine, is it still in use? You are wondering, has it been cleaned? You may very well ask, was it thoroughly washed?”
― Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle

“I got bored," he says. "Besides, you know what's creepier than walking around your dead brothers' apartment? Sitting alone in a hearse in front of his apartment.”
― Holly Black, Red Glove

“Just remember,” he told her. “If you run from me, I will pursue.”
― Nenia Campbell, Fearscape

“A sense of wrongness, of fraught unease, as if long nails scraped the surface of the moon, raising the hackles of the soul.”
― China Miéville, Perdido Street Station

“They're endless, stretching beyond the horizon and spreading around me like forever. They heave and moan, frothing over each other, cresting and falling. The pure depth and vastness of it all beyond comprehension, my eyes unable to focus on any individual. Instead I'm drowned in their need. They ripple and swell, the bodies of the Mudo, like the ocean. Like the dead-tossed waves.”
― Carrie Ryan

“Shaun get your sister her glasses. She looks naked without them. It's creeping me out.”
― Mira Grant, Feed

“There is a child - a baby - who long since kicked off her blankets. Her skin is ashen and her mouth open in a perpetual yet silent scream. She isn't old enough to roll over, to sit up, to climb. So she lies there kicking her fat legs against the footboard of the crib, eternally calling for her mother. For food. For flesh.”
― Carrie Ryan, The Forest of Hands and Teeth

“Riggedy riggedy white
Come and spend the night
We'll play some games
Some wild some tame
Cause if you will, you might.

By, Laberge ”
― D.J. MacHale

“so pRetty i hAd to Eat hiM”
― Scott Westerfeld, Peeps

“A little boy who's discovered the monster under the bed is actually real, and it's screwing Mommy.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton, The Killing Dance

“We are in the dark places of the earth," said Madman. "Where all the ancient and most dangerous secrets are kept. There are Old Things down here, sleeping all around us, in the earth and in the living rock, and in the spaces between spaces. Keep your voices down. Some of these old creatures sleep but lightly, and even their dreams can have force and substance in our limited world. We have come among forgotten gods and sleeping devils, from the days before the world settled down and declared itself sane.”
― Simon R. Green, Hex and the City

“You're like a half-tamed creature, still shy of the bridle. 'Except you enthrall me, never shall be free.' But freedom is an illusion, anyway.”
― Nenia Campbell, Fearscape

“But then I'm distracted by movement in the Forest, a glimpse of red at the edge of my vision. She's no longer running, no longer even walking or standing, but crawling now. Dragging her broken body across the ground toward me, her fingers clawing at the dirt. Her progress is slow, unbearably so. Such that it's almost sad to see her reduced to this. Her body has used up it's stores of energy and has begun collapsing in on itself.”
― Carrie Ryan (The Forest of Hands and Teeth)

“Bodies lay in the sun. Bodies stood in the sun.”
― N.J. Hallard, Breaking News: An Autozombiography

“Normal is an ilusion. What's normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.”
― Morticia Addams

“When I said it aloud, it sounded terribly creepy, which is why I had said it aloud.”
― Amanda Hocking

“Then again, maybe you couldn't have killed me," he said, crawling out of the stairway. He moved very slowly, like a lizard who had gotten too cold.

I heard a whimper from behind one of the closed doors next to the bathroom, and sympathized. I wanted to whimper, too.

"I'm not hunting you," I told him firmly, though I stepped backward until I stood in a circle of light at the end of the hallway.

He stopped halfway out of the stairway, his eyes were filmed over like a dead man's.

"Good," he said. "If you kill Andre, I won't tell-and no one will ask."

And he was gone, withdrawing from the hallway and down the stairs so fast that I barely caught the motion, though I was staring right at him.

I walked out of his home because if I'd moved any faster, I'd have run screaming.”
― Patricia Briggs, Blood Bound

“I paid the taxi driver, got out with my suitcase, surveyed my surroundings, and just as I was turning to ask the driver something or get back into the taxi and return forthwith to Chillán and then to Santiago, it sped off without warning, as if the somewhat ominous solitude of the place had unleashed atavistic fears in the driver's mind. For a moment I too was afraid. I must have been a sorry sight standing there helplessly with my suitcase from the seminary, holding a copy of Farewell's Anthology in one hand. Some birds flew out from behind a clump of trees. They seemed to be screaming the name of that forsaken village, Querquén, but they also seemed to be enquiring who: quién, quién, quién. I said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench, there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was, or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our Lady, do not abandon your servant, I murmured, while the black birds, about twenty-five centimetres in length, cried quién, quién, quién. Our Lady of Lourdes, do not abandon your poor priest, I murmured, while other birds, about ten centimetres long, brown in colour, or brownish, rather, with white breasts, called out, but not as loudly, quién, quién, quién, Our Lady of Suffering, Our Lady of Insight, Our Lady of Poetry, do not leave your devoted subject at the mercy of the elements, I murmured, while several tiny birds, magenta, black, fuchsia, yellow and blue in colour, wailed quién, quién, quién, at which point a cold wind sprang up suddenly, chilling me to the bone.”
― Roberto Bolaño, By Night in Chile

“What is art, if not an excuse to be adventurous?”
― Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape

“I often wonder if I could see her out of all the windows at once.
But, turn as fast as I can, I can only see out of one at one time.
And though I always see her, she may be able to creep faster than I can turn!
I have watched her sometimes away off in the open country, creeping as fast as a cloud shadow in a high wind.”
― Charlotte Perkins Gilman, The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories

“It's a big spooky place when you're in it alone. It's like you can hear all the whispers of all the voices of all the actors who ever played here. Kind of creepy. Like a church can be creepy when it's empty. You ever been in a church after hours?”
― Benjamin R. Smith

“In the middle of nowhere, along a quiet stretch of road, the diner dreamt of the hungry dead. And of two men.”
― A. Lee Martinez, Gil's All Fright Diner

“After another few days, I noticed I became annoyed whenever I would actually have to ask Asshole for something. How quickly the creepy becomes commonplace.”
― John Scalzi, Old Man's War

“In one picture, the pool was half hidden by a fringe of mace- weeds, and the dead willow was leaning across it at a prone, despondent angle, as if mysteriously arrested in its fall towards the stagnant waters. Beyond, the alders seemed to strain away from the pool, exposing their knotted roots as if in eternal effort. In the other drawing, the pool formed the main portion of the foreground, with the skeleton tree looming drearily at one side. At the water's farther end, the cat-tails seemed to wave and whisper among themselves in a dying wind; and the steeply barring slope of pine at the meadow's terminus was indicated as a wall of gloomy green that closed in the picture, leaving only a pale of autumnal sky at the top. ("Genius Loci")”
― Clark Ashton Smith, American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from Poe to the Pulps

“David!" Xander yelled, because he had to yell something. His eyes snapped back to the figure in the upstairs doorway, but it was gone. "What do you want?" David asked.
"I...were you just upstairs?"
"I haven't looked up there yet."
"But I just saw you up there.”
― Robert Liparulo, House of Dark Shadows

“For some reason the past—any of our pasts—was solidly off-limits. They were like the creepy rabbits in Watership Down who won't answer any questions beginning with "Where.”
― Tana French, The Likeness