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- October 4, 2008 at 11:56 pm #263824
Looking for some inspirational words for the Halloween holiday? Whether it’s party invitations, Halloween cards or Halloween poems to recite at your local séance, here is a collection of some of the best creepy quotes in the English language.
At first cock-crow the ghosts must go
Back to their quiet graves below. -Theodosia Garrison
When witches go riding, and black cats are seen, the moon laughs and whispers, ‘tis near Halloween. -19th century Halloween postcard
Just like a ghost, you’ve been a-hauntin’ my dreams, So I’ll propose on Halloween. Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you. -Classics IV
Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble. -Shakespeare, “Macbeth”
One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. – Emily Dickinson
On Hallowe’en the thing you must do Is pretend that nothing can frighten you And if somethin’ scares you and you want to run Just let on like it’s Hallowe’en fun. -19th Century Halloween postcard
Shadows of a thousand years rise again unseen, Voices whisper in the trees, “Tonight is Halloween!” – Dexter Kozen
It’s Halloween! It’s Halloween! The moon is full and bright And we shall see what can’t be seen On any other night.
Skeletons and ghosts and ghouls, Grinning goblins fighting duels, Werewolves rising from their tombs, Witches on their magic brooms. In masks and gown we haunt the street And knock on doors for trick or treat. Tonight we are the king and queen, For oh tonight it’s Halloween! -Jack Prelutsky
There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics and the Great Pumpkin. -Linus Van Pelt in It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
Come with me All Hallow’s night We’ll frighten everyone in sight Such pranks for once, are justified And fun and frolic amplified. -19th Century Halloween postcard
‘Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. -William Shakespeare
A grandmother pretends she doesn’t know who you are on Halloween. -Erma Bombeck
My candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open… -Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. -William Shakespeare
The devil’s voice is sweet to hear. -Stephen King
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. -Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven
And finally, if you’re looking for a wonderful spooky story to recite on Halloween:
The Skeleton Dance
After the German of Goethe
The warder looked out at the mid-hour of night, Where the grave-hills all silently lay; The moon-beams above gave so brilliant a light, That the churchyard was clear as by day: First one, then another, to open began; Here came out a woman – there came out a man, Each clad in a shroud long and white.
And then for amusement – perchance it was cold – In a circle they seemed to advance; The poor and the rich, and the young and the old, But the grave-clothes impeded the dance: And as no person thought about modesty there, They flung off their garments, and stripped themselves bare, And a shroud lay on each heap of mould.
They kicked up their heels, and they rattled their bones, And the horrible din that they made Went clickety-clackety – just like the tones Of a castanet noisily played. And the warder he laughed as he witnessed the cheer, And he heard the Betrayer speak soft in his ear, “Go and steal away one of their shrouds.”
Swift as thought it was done – in an instant he fled Behind the church portal to hide; And brighter and brighter the moon-beam was shed, As the dance they still shudderingly plied; But at last they began to grow tired of their fun, And they put on their shrouds, and slipped off, one by one, Beneath, to the homes of the dead.
But tapping at every grave-hill, there staid One skeleton, tripping behind; Though not by his comrades the trick had been played Now its odour he snuffed in the wind: He rushed to the door – but fell back with a shock; For well for the wight of the bell and the clock, The sign of the cross it displayed.
But the shroud he must have—not a moment he stays; Ere a man had begun but to think, On the Gothic-work his fingers quickly he lays, And climbs up its chain, link by link. Now woe to the warder – for sure he must die To see, like a long-legged spider, draw nigh
The skeleton’s clattering form: And pale was his visage, and thick came his breath; The garb, alas! why did he touch? How sick grew his soul as the garment of death
The skeleton caught in his clutch- The moon disappeared, and the skies changed to dun, And louder than thunder the church-bell tolled one- The spectre fell tumbling to bits!
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