Citas de Espectros

• They will be like shadows, they will be like wraiths, gray members of a congregation of nightmare; hark! his long wavering howl . . . an aria of fear made audible. The wolfsong is the sound of the rending you will suffer, in itself a murdering.

  Angela Carter

  Long, Suffering, Shadow

  Angela Carter (1997). "Burning your boats: the collected short stories", Penguin Group USA.

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• Las historias nos llegan como espectros que requieren encarnaciones precisas.

  Joyce Carol Oates

  Stories, Embodiment, Precise

  Joyce Carol Oates (2009). “The Faith of a Writer: Life, Craft, Art”, p.35, Zondervan

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• Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Alas

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• Wraith held up his hands. "Chill, Gramps. I don't want to sit on your knee or anything.

  Larissa Ione

  Hands, Want, Knees

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• Mooooon!” said the Ogre. “Tranquility …” Then he pointed at the full moon. “Neil Armstrong walked in a sea of Tranquility.” Then he added, “It’s made of cheese. But you have to take off the plastic before you put it on a burger.” Mickey sighed. “What’s his story?” the wraith asked. “He’s chocolate,” Mikey said.

  Neal Shusterman

  Moon, Sea, Chocolate

  Neal Shusterman (2012). “Everfound”, p.81, Simon and Schuster

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• God, though this life is but a wraith, Although we know not what we use, Although we grope with little faith, Give me the heart to fight and lose.

  Louis Untermeyer

  Heart, Fighting, Giving

  Louis Untermeyer (1935). “Selected poems and parodies of Louis Untermeyer”

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• There have been plenty of chances to close my eyes and go back to the sleep of my life as it was, but I hadn't taken any of them. Do I wish now that I had? It's hard to answer that question, as the wraiths move closer.

  Lisa Unger

  Moving, Taken, Sleep

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• Wraith shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets. "How long before we consider you overdue and mount a rescue party?" "Never." Reaver shrugged into his shirt. "If I don't come back, it is because I'm either dead or in a situation that's too dangerous to get me out of." "Oh," Sin said brightly-and sarcastically. "You mean like the situation Harvester is in." Seminus demons were annoying no matter what gender. "Yes. Like that." She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Good. Glad we're clear. Try to come back soon or we'll come after you.

  Larissa Ione

  Party, Mean, Hands

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• Rogue Squadron doesn't run. Unless we really, really have to.

  Aaron Allston

  Running, Rogues

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• ...A fuel-less flame is nothing but a wraith, However wrought, if unsustained by passion.

  Nick Gordon

  Passion, Flames, Fuel

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• God's wraith is really only the face of love refused.

  Peter Kreeft

  God, Faces

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• Horror Hotel, as wraith called Shade's house. "Vampires, demons, and werewolves check in... and then they make out, and-

  Larissa Ione

  House, Vampire, Shade

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• God is love. Wraith is how His love appears to us when we sin or rebel or run away from Him. The very light that is meant to help us appears to us as our enemy when we seek the darkness.

  Peter Kreeft

  God, Running, Light

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• I’ve been around a lot of wraiths, and he doesn’t feel like that either, though. It’s a strange sensation. Like human wrapped in evil.” – Caleb “Oh, great. Our coach is a pig-in-the-blanket for Satan.” – Nick

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Pigs, Evil, Strange

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• El niño, que lo hacía todo bien y con una gracia natural de la que el espectro siempre había carecido, y a quien el espectro había estado tan ansioso por ver y oír y hacerle saber (al hijo) que era visto y oído, el hijo se había convertido en un niño cada vez más oculto, hacia el final de la vida del espectro; y nadie más en el espectro y en la familia nuclear del niño vería o reconocería esto, el hecho de que el gracioso y maravilloso niño estaba desapareciendo, ante sus propios ojos. Miraron pero no vieron su invisibilidad.

  David Foster Wallace

  Eye, Son, Boys

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• Fingía que era lo único que le impedía hacerlo. Pero, en el fondo de su mente, se preguntaba si sería capaz de escribir algo. A menudo la pregunta le asaltaba cuando menos se lo esperaba. Tienes cuatro horas todas las mañanas, la afirmación surgía como un espectro amenazador. Tienes tiempo para escribir miles de palabras. ¿Por qué no lo hace? Y la respuesta siempre se perdía en una maraña de porqués y pozos e infinitas razones a las que se aferraba como un ahogado a un clavo ardiendo.

  Richard Matheson

  Mañana, Escritura, Hombres

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• Good luck, man." Wraith clapped him on the shoulder. "For an angel, you don't suck." "Ditto. For a demon....well, you do suck." "Because I'm half vampire?" "Sure," Reaver said. "Let's go with that.

  Larissa Ione

  Good Luck, Angel, Men

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• Either one of you kill him, or I will.” Shade, Wraith and Kynan raised their hands to volunteer. How special. Brotherly love ran like syrup in the room.

  Larissa Ione

  Hands, Volunteer, Special

  Larissa Ione (2010). “Ecstasy Unveiled”, p.45, Hachette UK

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• Wraith rubbed his hands together in cheesy horror-movie glee. “Join us or die.” He grinned. “I’ve always wanted to say that.

  Larissa Ione

  Hands, Cheesy, Together

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• The children would remember for the rest of their lives the august solemnity with which their father, devastated by his prolonged vigil and by the wraith of his imagination, revealed his discovery to them: 'The world is round, like an orange.

  Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  Children, Father, Discovery

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• Rogue Squadron doesn’t run. Unless we really, really have to." "No, this will be Wraith Squadron’s mission." "We don’t mind running. Even when we don’t have to.

  Aaron Allston

  Running, Mind, Rogues

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• I'm giving you a free shot at my blood and you're playing hard to get? What kind of vampire are you?" When Wraith just stood there, Kynan rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. My blood's eighty proof. You want it. You know you do.

  Larissa Ione

  Eye, Blood, Giving

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• Why are you all here?" "One of Bantazar's assassins hit you with an exomangler," Lore said. "He's dead." "A lot dead." Wraith snorted and high-fived Lore. "Massive deadness.

  Larissa Ione

  Assassins, Said, Massive

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• UG staff is patching up wargs, and all surviving Guardians are tied up," Wraith said, "But they could probably use some medical attention. Especially the one dipshit with the idiotic Mohawk. He lost a lot of blood." "Because you ate him," Sin said wryly. Wraith blinked with exaggerated innocence. "Fighting makes me hungry.

  Larissa Ione

  Fighting, Blood, Attention

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• Throughout our world the cry of the poor so often goes unheard. The prophets harangued Israel and Judah unceasingly about the powerless and marginalized, the overlooked widows, orphans, and "sojourners in our midst," who are still with us today as single mothers, hungry children, and helpless immigrants, wraiths invisible in our prosperous societies.

  Thomas Cahill

  Mother, Children, Our World

  Thomas Cahill (2010). “The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels”, p.252, Anchor

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