With red clay between my toes,and the sun setting over my head,the ghost of my mother blows in,riding on a honeysuckle breeze, oh lord,riding on a honeysuckle breeze.

Oh God just look at me now… one night opens words and utters pain… I cannot begin to explain to you… this… I am not here. This is not happening. Oh wait, it is, isn’t...

His kiss was like no other! His kiss was enchanted and fairy-tale like. He applied pressure, but just enough to feel his tenderness and warmth. I could feel his heart beating wildly as he pressed...

And if sometimes, late at night in bed, I questioned whether or not I truly was insane, I told myself that it didn’t matter. I was too happy to care.

No! no! My engagement is with no bride–the worms! the worms expect me! I am a dead man–I have been slain by robbers–my body lies at Wurtzburg–at midnight I am to be buried–the grave is...

I believe ghost story writing is a dying art.

The smell of silence looks like the ghost of my grandpa. My love is deeper than six feet of dirt, and considerably easier to shovel.

A friend comes over with a Ouija board.It spells out: Bourbon. Where’s the band?Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.

Nice is a city of ghosts and specters, but I hope not to become one of them right away.

Even then I found the word fitting, soothing.Fireflies.Fire flies.Fire, fly.

Silent as a flower, her face fell in dismay, aware that the ghost of lust ate and left, sensing that there was a different scent of perfume consuming the room, and that she had numbered...

The stranger was as white as a gallon of milk, and I felt the desire to pour his soul into my coffee. I’d drink him like the ghost of my grandpa.

The Idea of Ghost, like the Idea of North. A mere looped whisper, in darkness or in light. And no matter what this person may have been like before he or she died, no matter...

Fear no more as long as her memory surrounds you like a ghost…cry no more as long as she weeps for you like a willow.

Everybody is equally weak on the inside, just that some present their ruins as new castles and become kings –

Did you ever think about boys?’ I say, staring up into the dark. ‘There wasn’t room,’ she whispers, and her voice is unbelievably sad. ‘At first, after Connor, I was just waiting. I was going...

I began to doubt that I would ever know the truth of what transpired, or who those people really were. But all that changed one rainy August afternoon, when I was surprised by a dead...

He does love prophesying a misfortune, does the average British ghost. Send him out to prognosticate trouble to somebody, and he is happy. Let him force his way into a peaceful home, and turn the...

Martha Ridgley had been a single, working-class woman with no children or close family. Her killer had never been caught, and her case was eventually forgotten.But not by everyone—not by whoever had been paying the...

She’d wanted Randall Parks from the moment her hormones kicked in. Her best friend, her guardian when things got rough, her knight in somewhat-rusted and dinged up armor—he wore many hats in her life and...

I’m very much a bit of a ghost presence.

He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses...

I cried for all of those things that should have just been for us…

If anyone views himself as being totally perfect in the actual sense of the word, he is undoubtedly imperfect in God’s eyes. For the thought alone is one of presumption, impurity and imperfection. One may...

Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seatin this distracted globe. Remember thee?

It’s a shame, when I’m at the checkout line, and the cashier holds up my bill to the light, in search for a ghost president, or slashing a yellow marker to see if counterfeit. Even...

I drink coffee like steam is the ghost of dead water. Ever tried inhaling the afterlife?

I am the ghost in the empty jar. My silence belongs in the cemetery, just like all my ex girlfriends. Long live love!

It was another dark and windy night. Like so many others.

My ghost is the only soul who ever comes to cry on my grave… Only the skies cried sincerely on my funeral.

Now that’s a ghastly moon, not ghostly.

Every town has ‘THAT house’: the one that once held dark secrets. You know the house… the one no one will purchase? The one whose walls have seen blood? The one that even birds avoid,...

After breakfast the host takes the young man into a corner, and explains to him that what he saw was the ghost of a lady who had been murdered in that very bed, or who...

He’d need the woman’s help to set things right; he just didn’t like having to wake the dead.

Work like an angel, dress like a demon, live like a ghost, and dream like a human.

There are tales that rise like the early sun, breathe, and take on a life of their own. There are ones that flow quietly and effortlessly until time forsakes them, but there are others that...

There’s a little angel on one of my shoulders saying that this is a wicked thing to do. Then there’s a little devil on my other shoulder, and she looks a lot like you.

One day that’s going to fall on us and spear you through the heart,” he said. I turned to kiss him on the shoulder and closed my eyes.

I figure I basically am a ghost. I think we all are.

Phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled.

Burning bridges behind you is understandable. It’s the bridges before us that we burn, not realizing we may need to cross, that brings regret.

there grew up around the campfires stories of a great silver stallion seen galloping over wind-packed snow way up on the Ramshead Range; of a ghost horse that drank at the Crackenback River; of a...

I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.

Like most people, my views about ghosts and haunted places were traditional while growing up. I believed ghosts were human spirits. Not that I talked to many people about the subject or my experiences. I...

The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods...

Jane sneezed three hundred dollars’ worth of coke into the air.Krishna’s black eyes seem to have mirrors in them. She glances at me with a smile as big as the Cheshire Cat’s.

Many people, after spending a long weekend being stealthily seduced by this grand dame of the South, mistakenly think that they have gotten to know her: they believe (in error) that after a long stroll...

The popular notion that ghosts are likely to be seen in a graveyard is not borne out by psychical research… A haunting ghost usually haunts a place that a person lived in or frequented while...

Come on. Let’s go find some answers.

What happened to you?” she asked.”Ben was feeling artistic. Wanted to rearrange my face.