The monsters act out our rage. They act on their worst impulses, which is appealing to a certain part of us. They get punished for it, but we’ve enjoyed the spectacle of their liberation.
One part of love is innocence One part of love is guilt One part the milk that in a sense Is soured as soon as spilt One part of love is sentiment One part of love is lust One part is the presentiment Of our return to dust.
Richard Christian Matheson is a master of compression. He knows how to catch a moment in words and convey it straight to the reader’s heart.
Fear is a place where you just tell the truth.
I really believe that there is an enormous appetite amongst readers for an originality of vision. In other words, be true to your own dreams and there will always be people who want to hear them.
I’ve held a brain in my hands, which is an extraordinary experience.
If you want to look like the people next door, you’re probably smothering yourself into your dreams.
What I tried to do is deliver movies that have worked for me more than once.
As for theatre, there’s ups and downs to everything. Theatre is ephemeral. But that is part of its charm because you can always say the production was better than it was.
I love meeting people who’ve read my books. The prime reason to be on the planet is to make things I can show to other people: paintings, books, movies.
I remember when I watched ‘Hellraiser’ with my mother. She cried when she saw my name in the opening credits, and I had to tell her that that was the happiest she was going to be for the next two hours.
I think that horror fiction is one of the ways to approach these problems of death.
The world had seen so many Ages: the Age of Enlightenment; of Reformation; of Reason. Now, at last, the Age of Desire. And after this, an end to Ages; an end, perhaps, to everything.
Never believe your eyes.
She was a sea: and I had to swim in her.
The sun rose like a stripper, keeping its glory well covered by cloud till it seemed there’d be no show at all.
I was cured in my new infamy of all the tired wisdom of age. I would never weary into that tired state again – I swore to myself, I would always be this raw, wet child hereafter...
Superman is, after all, an alien life form. He is simply the acceptable face of invading realities.
There is no delight the equal of dread.
I dreamt a limitless book, A book unbound, Its leaves scattered in fantastic abundance On every line there was a new horizon drawn, New heavens supposed; New states, new souls.