Here are the stories written on the Book of Blood. They are a map of that dark highway that leads out of life towards unknown destinations. Few will have to take it, most will go on peacefully along lamplit streets, ushered out of living with prayers and caresses. But for a few, a chosen few, the horrors will come, skipping to fetch them off to the highway of the damned... Clive Barker
Some Similar Quotes
  1. Nothing else wounds so deeply and irreparably. Nothing else robs us of hope so much as being unloved by one we love - Clive Barker
  2. Funny that. We live in islands of Hours and we never seem to have time enough for anything... - Clive Barker
  3. That's half of your trouble, " muttered the crocodile. "You believe everything's true."" That's because everything is, " replied Mr. Bacchus. - Clive Barker
  4. Here are the stories written on the Book of Blood. They are a map of that dark highway that leads out of life towards unknown destinations. Few will have to take it, most will go on peacefully along lamplit streets, ushered out of living with... - Clive Barker
  5. I found a brief piece of by Antonio Vivaldi around this time which became my ‘Pinhead Mood Music’. Called Al Santo Sepolcro (At The Holy Sepulchre), it opens more like a piece of modern orchestral music, and although it it moves toward Vivaldi’s familiar harmonies,... - Doug Bradley
More Quotes By Clive Barker
  1. Any fool can be happy. It takes a man with real heart to make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep.
  2. I dreamed I spoke in another's language, I dreamed I lived in another's skin, I dreamed I was my own beloved, I dreamed I was a tiger's kin. I dreamed that Eden lived inside me, And when I breathed a garden came, I dreamed I...
  3. Nothing else wounds so deeply and irreparably. Nothing else robs us of hope so much as being unloved by one we love
  4. [Horror fiction] shows us that the control we believe we have is purely illusory, and that every moment we teeter on chaos and oblivion.
  5. I am a man, and men are animals who tell stories. This is a gift from God, who spoke our species into being, but left the end of our story untold. That mystery is troubling to us. How could it be otherwise? Without the final...
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