Nick Saban Quotes

The idea of running around and screaming about Jason Voorhees trying to kill you was fun.

A nightmare is two bassists on stage.

The grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled, Shakes off her wonted firmness.

What scares me is what scares you. We're all afraid of the same things. That's why horror is such a powerful genre. All you have to do is ask yourself what frightens you and you'll know what frightens me.

In terms of fear, I still am most afraid of Freddie Kruger.

The last time we had Freddy in reality was part two and Freddy sort of went out on his own.

… a hideous bugbear

I would dream that this coffin had wings, and it would fly around my bed at night, and so it was a dream that happened a lot, and that's what frightened me.

True horror, I think, deals with dread and menace and gets under your skin.

My adult life is filled with the things horror movies are made of.

I personally cannot watch horror films: I am a scaredy cat and scare incredibly easily.

stop now before i kill you a word to the wise from your friend PENNYWISE

Then she did see it there - just a face, peering through the curtains, hanging in midair like a mask. A head-scarf concealed the hair and the glassy eyes stared inhumanly, but it wasn’t a mask, it couldn’t be. The skin had been powdered dead-white and two hectic spots of rouge centered on the cheekbones. It wasn’t a mask. It was the face of a crazy old woman. Mary started to scream, and then the curtains parted further and a hand appeared, holding a butcher’s knife. It was the knife that, a moment later, cut off her scream. And her head.

The whole forest was peopled with frightful sounds-the creaking of the trees, the howling of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians; while sometimes the wind tolled like a distant church bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar around the traveler, as if all Nature were laughing him to scorn. But he was himself the chief horror of the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors.

With a horror movie, you're making a metaphor. You're making a personalized nightmare for the protagonist.

So many horrid Ghosts.

His body rigid with terror as he waited for the savages to something horrible to him—bash his head with clubs, or stab him with spears, or… …or tap him on the shoulder.

But my gloom did not lessen. I knew that I'd had a bad dream, and I stood in the dark trying to recollect it. The second I closed my eyes, I was with the dead. They did things words cannot express. They spoke madness. ("Hanka")

I'm a huge baby and horror films just terrify me, they're very effective with me.

If you look at the horror genre, that work is all about making people uncomfortable by stimulating our fear of death.

He -it- was a specter! I stepped back, stunned.

And then the screaming begins.

Horror found me. I got into the movie business to make westerns.

Horror movies scare me, because I watch them as just - I don't even watch them as an actor.

The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window.