Hallows Eve Quotes

“Treats and tricks.
Witch broomsticks.
Jack-o-lanterns
Lick their lips.

Crows and cats.
Vampire bats.
Capes and fangs
And pointed hats.

Werewolves howl.
Phantoms prowl.
Halloween’s
Upon us now.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year

“Pumpkins
in October,
as fat as the full moon,
they sit on our doorstep at night
and glow.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“On Hallows Eve, we witches meet
to broil and bubble tasty treats
like goblin thumbs with venom dip,
crisp bat wings, and fried fingertips.

We bake the loudest cackle crunch,
and brew the thickest quagmire punch.
Delicious are the rotting flies
when sprinkled over spider pies.

And, my oh my, the ogre brains
all scrambled up with wolf remains!
But what I love the most, it’s true,
are festered boils mixed in a stew.

They cook up oh so tenderly.
It goes quite well with mugwort tea.
So don’t be shy; the cauldron’s hot.
Jump in! We witches eat a lot!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Halloween colors, less or more,
are pumpkin, witch, and bloody gore.”

“You must mean orange, black, and red.”

“Indeed, that’s what I said.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“The whispers you hear in your ear that you fear
in the air everywhere,
they are ghosts.

The moans and the groans in the lowest of tones
no one owns or condones,
they are ghosts.

You might deem them gremlins or water or wind,
while others say shadows or rodents or sin.

But oh! I say no!
‘Tis not so, child, for lo!
The chills that you feel in a thrill that proves goose
bumps are frightfully real,
they are ghosts!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year

“What do Halloween creatures eat?
Hot spider soup with pumpkin meat
and toasted, no-salt, bat-wing chips,
served best with Transylvania dips.
A thistle-horehound salad mix
has added crunch from sun-dried ticks.
The plat du jour is hairy beast
fried crisp in grimy goblin grease.
Now, don’t forget dessert so sweet;
try puss-cream pie or candied feet!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“I let my sword slip to the ground, and for the second time I stood unarmed in the presence of werewolves.

Kresh put his lips to my forehead, and my skin burned beneath his kiss. When his hands repositioned to take me by the waist, my breathing—already shallow—ceased entirely. Then his lips fell on mine and I was suddenly everything he claimed me to be—his mate, his wife, his world.

The taste of him seemed mysteriously new and old at the same time. Every bit of tension eased as if internally I had come home again, and yet a sense of foreignness made our connection a sweet venture. My breast was afire as he continued to grasp my hips, keeping me close. I burned for him as if vampire venom were coursing through every inch of me.

The man was a constellation of suns in my desire, unlike Thaddeus who hardly equaled a speck of stardust. The thought of that coward reminded me of grim news. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to tear my lips away from what they craved, and yet I remained a submissive puddle in this werewolf’s arms.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Thank you,” I managed to say.

Replying with a nod, he approached my horse. “Here, let me help you—”

I slipped down myself before he could lend a hand, keeping the fur hide in my possession. “I’m not suddenly incapable because I wear a dress, Thaddeus.”

“I wasn’t suggesting...” Wisely, he let the issue drop.

Lifting an arm, he offered it to me. That’s when I noticed my sword in sheath belted to his waist.

“That’s mine!” I declared, reaching for the hilt.

Thaddeus managed a quick side-step. He hardened his jaw at my look of incredulity. I would only wait momentarily for an explanation.

“I know the sword is yours, Catherine, everyone knows that. But you’re too beautiful tonight to ruin that radiant look with an ugly, leather belt strapped about you.”

I was starting to think the man was using compliments as a weapon to defend himself against me. It did work to temper my anger somewhat.

“I brought the sword as a cautionary act, just in case those nasty werewolves show up. Seeing how I’ll be standing beside you all evening, the blade will be at your disposal if needed.”

I accepted his reasoning and stood down.

“Besides,” Thaddeus added, apparently feeling safe, “what’s yours is mine now anyway.”

I glared at the fool. “That works both ways, you know.”

He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “If it must.”

Again, he offered me his arm which I grudgingly accepted.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Turn around….you’ve got grass and dead flowers…”

My fingers naturally began to comb through my long, black strands, shaking things loose as Sarti carefully removed more stubborn pieces. The flowers had been left over from my forced marriage to Thaddeus. The grass, from a sensual night with Kresh on an eve of my honeymoon. Devilish irony.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Bat, fly high.
Pumpkin, sit.
Black cat, cry.
Spider, knit.
Wicken, chant.
Phantom, moan.
Mummy, rant.
Zombie, groan.
Werewolf, howl.
Owl, hoot.
Goblin, growl.
Pirate, loot.
Skeleton,
Frankenstein,
Curse the sun.
Poem, rhyme.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Go put on your mask.
Say 'trick-or-treat' in costume.
It’s All Hallows Eve.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year

“Kresh kept silent beside me as Baron rehearsed his deadly plan. I listened with my eyes aimed at the horizon, witnessing the night consume a final red vein of daylight. It struck me that nightfall always drowned the sunset. Never did the sun resurface from where it sank, nor would it ever.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Are you ready to go home, Catherine?” he asked. “It’s warm inside the house. I kept a fire going for you.”

I continued looking at him, unsure how to respond. “Thanks,” I managed to say and then glanced in the direction of his house—our house.

“Well, you are my wife. And I know you don’t like the cold.”

I’m his wife, I thought to myself. He had said the words as if that simple fact made it necessary to be both thoughtful and kind. As if having gained a wife or husband meant having also gained her or his concerns, and hence the need to consider the person’s needs, wants, and preferences as strongly as one’s own. It struck me as a perfect description of what marriage ought to be. An agreeable notion that had not entered into my petty way of viewing matrimony. I would have assumed it to be above Thaddeus’ egotistical mindset as well.

“Catherine?” he said again, watching me regard him with a quizzical expression. “Are you ready to go home?”

I nodded, which made him smile.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“The world turned upside down - in a good way - for one black velvet night.”
― Karen Fortunati, The Weight of Zero

“If it means battling the armies of Hades,
I will fight to the death for you.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“In the old days (not so old, I remind myself) there would have been a celebration last night. All Hallows' Eve: a magical time; a time of secrets and of mysteries; of sachets to be sewn in red silk and hung around the house to ward off evil; of scattered salt and spiced wine and honey cakes left on the sill; of pumpkin, apples, firecrackers, and the scent of pine and woodsmoke as autumn turns and old winter takes the stage. There would have been songs and dancing round the bonfire; Anouk in greasepaint and black feathers, flitting from door to door with Pantoufle at her heels, and Rosette with her lantern and her own totem- with orange fur to match her hair- prancing and preening in her wake.”
― Joanne Harris, The Girl with No Shadow

“Frankenstein.
Big oaf by design.
The monster pines for romance.
But sadly, he cannot dance.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“When I was a youngster,
I trick-or-treated.
I dressed up in costume,
rang doorbells and pleaded.

Today I’m a grown up
who treats and tricks.
I cackle at children
and share candy sticks.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Leaves crumble under my feet as I walk, the scent of fallen apples and damp soil in air, the shadowlands felt in the mist hanging over the fields, ancient whispers awaken the night.”
― Solstice

“That baking day was the third day Mrs G had shut herself away in the stillroom, dosing herself with medicinal waters. As I rolled the pastry I lived out a fancy I had nourished, since the first apple blossom pinked in May- the making of the perfect dish.
Next day was All Hallows Eve, or Souling Night as we called it, and all our neighbors would gather for Old Ned's cider and Mrs Garland's Soul Cakes. After the stablemen acted out the Souling play, the unmarried maids would have a lark, guessing their husband's name from apple pairings thrown over their shoulders. So what better night, I thought, for Jem to announce our wedding? At the ripe age of twenty-two years, the uncertainties of maidenhood were soon to pass me by. Crimping my tarts, I passed into that forgetfulness that is a most delightful way of being. My fingers scattered flour and my elbows spun the rolling pin along the slab. Unrolling before my eyes were scenes of triumph: of me and Jem leading a cheery procession to the chapel, posies of flowers in my hand and pinned to Jem's blue jacket. In my head I turned over the makings of my Bride Cake that sat in secret in the larder- ah, wouldn't that be the richest, most hotly spiced delight?
And all the bitter maidens who put it underneath their pillows would be sorrowing to think that Jem was finally taken, bound and married off to me.”
― Martine Bailey, An Appetite for Violets

“Who in their right minds fought against the kind of joy I felt at simply thinking about my enviable situation? I was fortunate. I was comfortable. I was happy.
And I hated it.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“I glanced across the room at Thaddeus seated at a long table within a group of shop keepers, and I contemplated him strongly. My heart leaped in my chest at the mere sight of him. I felt myself overcome. The acts of kindness and sweet attention and gratifying moments of passion afforded me by this man since the day of our marriage were purely pleasing. To be loved was a desirous affair! It was the aim of every beating heart! I nearly cast aside my concerns and allowed myself to be consumed by these agreeable sentiments except for one thing: I could not forget how stripped of power and dignity I had felt that very morning. Thaddeus had essentially commanded me to sit and stay like a dog. And I had heeded my master without so much as a growl!

This was not me. No one stayed me.

I watched those at the table grow more intensely involved in the details of a trade agreement I cared nothing about. Such business bartering was always selfishly motivated. When it appeared that my husband’s attention was engrossed on a point of aggressive negotiation, I excused myself from the weaving party and slipped out the back door. I turned down the alleyway and hurried to a crumbling chimney flue that was easy enough to climb. Almost immediately, a fit of anxiety gripped at my chest, and I felt as if a war was being waged in my gut—a battle between my desire to protect what harmony existed in my marriage and the selfish want to reclaim an ounce of the independence I had lost. This painful struggle nearly persuaded me to reconsider my childish act of defiance. Why was I stupidly jeopardizing my marriage? For what purpose? To stand upon a rooftop in sheer rebellion? Was I really that needy? That proud?

I could hear my husband’s command echoing in my mind—no kind persuasion, but a strict order to keep my feet on the ground. I understood his cautious reasoning, and I didn’t doubt he was acting out of concern for my safety, but I was not some fragile, incapable, defenseless creature in need of a controlling overseer. What irked me most was how my natural defenses had failed me. And the only way I could see to restore my confidence was to prove I had not lost the courage and ability to make my own choices and carry them out. Perhaps this act of defiance was childish, but it was remedial as well.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“I thought of the words the old witch had used to summon the sword on previous occasions. While stepping backwards with the intent of putting the table between Thaddeus and myself, I voiced the spell aloud.

“Grim dettarias, ee Duvalla swen areir!”

My trusted weapon appeared from out of nowhere, the hilt grasped tight within my fingers. Without delay, I pointed the tip of the blade at my enemy.

“Move away from the door and let me leave this place.”

“Oh, Catherine…”

“Don’t breathe that wicked name again!” I angrily ordered. Thaddeus closed his mouth, and his eyes scrunched the slightest bit, never shifting from me.

“I’ll cut out your tongue if you mutter that awful name one more time,” I threatened. I interpreted his frown as a sign that he believed I would make every effort to carry out that threat.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Years of strengthening my independence, perhaps believing on some level that my fate was to be forever solitary, had made me a strong and capable woman. I feared change. But did marriage demand a drastic change in my nature? No. Why should it? Strength of character wasn’t a flaw or an enemy to marital happiness. Yet I feared becoming a different person—a vulnerable, reliant, weaker person. Dompier had insisted change had already occurred in me to some degree. I did in fact feel susceptible emotionally around Thaddeus and yet without a total loss of myself. Is this what love did to people? Disarmed them with lures of peace and happiness? But if peace and happiness and companionship were indeed to be the outcome, why fight it?”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“I swallowed back a wave of concern as her focus jumped from my face to the indigo jewel at my chest. The blue light in the heart of the jewel glowed only faintly. A yank on the braided chain made me lurch forward and I heard Vada cry out in pain. When I looked, the vampiress was cupping her hand as if it hurt. I then understood what had happened: she had attempted to grab the enchanted gemstone and it had shocked her in the process. I flashed an accusatory glare at Vallatrece.

“Do you mean to steal from me?”

“Apparently no. It seems the stone has chosen you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Well, it’s mine—that I do know. You can’t take it from me. No one can.”

“How many have tried?”

I refused an answer to the question. My silence was undaunting.

“Where did you get that pretty trinket anyway? Who gave it to you?”

“No one gave it to me; I found it.”

Vallatrece scrunched up her face, communicating that she didn’t believe me.

“And now that I have it,” I continued, “I no longer require your services.”

“You no longer require my services? Is that so?” Again, her cheeks dimpled with amusement at my words.

“Yes, it is so.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Vampire,
Share your secret.
Turn into a black bat.
Quench your thirst before the day dawns.
Drink blood.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Black cat,
Get off my mat.
You bad-luck feline, scat!
Don’t come my way, stay where you’re at!
Oh, drat.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Treats of hot cocoa,
pumpkin pie, and candy corn.
Yummy Halloween.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Halloween trickster.
Spiders on string.
Children in costume.
Startle and scream.

Halloween treater.
Apples on sticks.
Caramel. Chocolate.
Come, take your pick.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“And at the end of seven years the Queen of the Faeries pays a tithe to Hell,” Aikin finished, as he joined them. “That’s what it says in ‘Tam Lin’.”
― Tom Deitz, Dreamseeker's Road