Ghost Boy Quotes & Sayings

Shit, man, democracy failed before it started.

Who thought it was a good idea to let the masses of fucktards decide anything?

[Guess I've got more faith in people.]

People? The election of 2044 -- Curls Bellberry, a boy band presidency on the platform that the Earth is flat and that he'd nuke New York to save Social Security. There's a good reason he was the last president.

Problem with letting people pick a leader is they gravitate towards confident sociopaths no matter how stupid they are.

It's the perception of qualification that fools people.

At least by having corporate executives rule us we get folks who are good at business.

Life hurts, the world is fucked, and that's not going to change. . . — Rick Remender

Alden seems like a very nice boy. The kind of boy I'd like to see you hanging out with." I almost laughed out loud. If she only knew! A reincarnated, soul-sharing lunatic. Ghost Boy---every mother's dream. — Mary Lindsey

Death growls mostly bore me. Who
wants to hear the Cookie Monster?
Sing your fucking lyrics. Put some
emotion behind it."
And Ghost's usual retaliation.
"Aw, I'm sorry. Do you need a hug,
emo boy? You know, you might
want to cross your legs. Your
vagina is showing."
"Suck my dick."
"I know you'd like that, but
Candace would have to return it
first."
"Burn! — Cherrie Lynn

I was literally seeing stars, and every ragged breath I took felt like I was trying to breathe through broken glass.
On the upside, my crush on Archer was totally gone. Over. Once a boy has slammed his kneecap into your rib cage, I think any romantic feeling should naturally go the way of the ghost. — Rachel Hawkins

If you see Myrnin, tell him I said I want my slow cooker back."
"Your- You let him borrow something you put food in?"
Hannah's smile disappeared. "Why?"
"Um, never mind. I'll make sure it gets disinfected before you get it back. But don't lend anything to him again unless you can put it in some kind of sterilizer." That made even Hannah look nervous. "Thanks. Tell crazy boy I said hey." "I will" Claire promised. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking - when did he borrow it from you?"
"He just showed up at my door one night about a week ago, said, 'Hi, nice to meet you. Can I borrow your Crock-Pot?' Which I understand is pretty typical Myrnin. — Rachel Caine

Cedric nodded to Snape. Snape knew the ghost didn't like to talk to him. Something about a ghost talking to a painting seemed to disturb the boy. Nothing technically human on either end, Snape figured. — G. Norman Lippert

I'm so glad you're okay."
"So, how do we celebrate my okayness? It's my day off. Let's go crazy. Glow-in-the-dark bowling?"
"No"
"I'll let you use the kiddie ball."
"Shut up. I do NOT need the kiddie ball."
"The way you bowl, I think you might."
He grabbed her in an exaggerated formal dance pose and whirled her around, backpack and all, which didn't make her any more graceful.
"Ballroom dancing?"
"Are you INSANE?"
"Hey, girls who tango are hot."
"You think I'm not hot because I don't tango?"
He dropped the act. Shane was a smart boy.
"I think you are too hot for ballroom or bowling. So you tell me. What do you want to do? And don't say study. — Rachel Caine

Once upon a time there was a girl named Debbie Jacobs and a boy named Teddy Dennis. — Rick Remender

Watch it, nasty boy, or I might jest have you fixed, iffin you not careful. — Jason Medina

One boy's footprints are not long in being lost in the snow, in the steadily falling snow of the shortest day, the longest night; they are lost as soon as they are made. And once again the heath is clothed in drifting white. And there is no ghost, save the one ghost that lives in the heart of a motherless boy, till his footprints disappear. — Halldor Laxness

PAHA SAPA PULLS HIS HAND BACK SHARPLY BUT NOT BEFORE HE feels the rattlesnake-strike shock of the dying Wasicun's ghost leaping into his fingers and flowing up his arm and into his chest. The boy lurches back in horror as the ghost burns its way up through his veins and bones like so much surging venom. — Dan Simmons

So now when a fight starts up I don't walk away like I used to, I crowd in and wait for those ghost words to start coming up. I've heard chump and howler and groovy, I've heard fuzz and kike and kraut and coon and square and roughhouse and lightweight and freak show and mama's boy and cancer stick and fairy and party hearty and flyboy and knuckle sandwich, and I grab up these expressions, I trap them in my head and I save them. Because every one has the DNA of a whole life in it, a life where those words fit in and made sense because everyone else was saying them, too. — Jennifer Egan

She looked from the hilt protruding between her breasts into the eyes of the boy she loved. The golden light in them enfolded her and her heart stopped beating, leaving the ghost of her smile on her mouth. Her vacant eyes mirrored something infinitely close to peace. — Farrah Naseem

I mean," her mother paused to choose her words, "maybe you'll get involved in some school related activities, or join a team, or maybe meet a nice boy."
"Ugh," Keely groaned, "I don't have time for that stuff mom. We've talked about this."
"Because of the little ghost ... searching ... thingy you and Tad do?"
"It's called paranormal investigation mom."
"It's called being antisocial. — Aaron Crabill

I wanted to tell her that Luka wasn't like any other boy I'd ever know before. Not because he was a ghost. Because he was Luka. — Caroline Green

I suddenly saw the little hobo standing under a sad street lamp with his thumb stuck out
poor forlorn man, poor lost sometime boy, now broken ghost of the penniless wilds. — Jack Kerouac

One day when God fell asleep
And the Holy Ghost went off flying,
He got into a box of miracles and stole three.
With the first he made it so that no one would know he had run away.
With the second he made himself a human boy forever.
With the third he created a Christ eternally crucified
And left him nailed to the cross that there is in Heaven
Where he's used as a model for other crosses.
Then he ran away to the sun
And came down on the first ray he caught. — Alberto Caeiro

The Presence, indeed, was with him, and he felt it, but he knew it only as the wind and shadow, the sky and closed daisies: in all these things and the rest it took shape that it might come near him. Yea, the Presence was in his very soul, else he could never have rejoiced in friend, or desired ghost to mother him: still he knew not the Presence. But it was drawing nearer and nearer to his knowledge -- even in sun and air and night and cloud, in beast and flower and herd-boy, until at last it would reveal itself to him, in him, as Life Himself. Then the man would know that in which the child had rejoiced. — George MacDonald

The voice came again. "Stop. Set down Death's knife. I've seen your heart and that you withhold nothing for yourself. You know my face. You recognize my love for you, as you know your own for the ghost boy. You know what you would do for him, and so you understand now that, for you, my beloved, I would fix the whole world. — Emily Henry

For the next couple of weeks she held Peter like a secret in her heart, lying right under her necklace. I could see him written on her face, and Tik Tok, too, seemed to catch shadows of him, because he'd stop to stare at her, puzzled, as if he'd just seen the boy flit across her eyes-seen the ghost of the kiss lingering for a second on the skin of her neck before disappearing. — Jodi Lynn Anderson

There are pieces of me, small pieces, still in love with a fiction. A ghost living inside a living boy I cannot begin to fathom. The ghost who sat by my bed while I dreamed in pain. The ghost who kept Samson from my mind as long as he could, I know, delaying an inevitable torture.

The ghost who loves me, in what poisoned way he can.

And I feel that poison working in me. — Victoria Aveyard

He'll be delivered from madness. What then? He'll feel himself acceptable! What then? Do you think feelings like his can be simply re-attached, like plasters? Stuck on to other objects we select? Look at him! ... My desire might be to make this boy an ardent husband - a caring citizen - a worshipper of abstract and unifying God. My achievement, however, is more likely to make a ghost! — Peter Shaffer

Sir?"
"Yes"
"Where do you go at night?"
Winter paused and glanced over his shoulder. Joseph was watching him with perceptive eyes for one so young.
In that instant, Winter grew tired of lies. "I right wrongs."
He expect more questions
Joseph was usually full of them and his answer was too obscure
but the boy merely nodded. "Will you teach me how sometime?"
Winter's eyes widened. Teach him to ... ? His mind instantly balked at the thought of putting Joseph in danger. But were he ever to ask for an apprentice to his Ghost, he knew instinctively that he could find no one with more courage than the lad. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He'd have to tell the Mage what he saw.
I've finally seen the Humdrum, sir.
I know what we're fighting
me.
'What's left of you.' the monster had
said.
What is left of me? Simon wondered.
A ghost? A hole? An echo?
An angry little boy with nervous
hands? — Rainbow Rowell

Are you a girl or a boy?' Liesl was wearing the same thin nightshirt she had been wearing since Tuesday, when her father died, and it occurred to her that if the ghost was a boy, she should cover up.
'Neither,' the ghost replied.
Liesel was startled. 'You have to be one or the other.'
'I don't have to be anything,' the ghost replied, sounding irritated. 'I am what I am and that's all. Things are different on the Other Side, you know. Things are ... blurrier. — Lauren Oliver

So what I want to know is why it is that I can no longer find you, in my mind. You are still there, just, but you are there like a ghost, a will o' the wisp. Not long ago you burned
your heart burned
in my mind like silver fire. But after that night in the inn it became patchy and dim, and now it is not there at all."
"Could it be that the heart that you seek is no longer my own? I have given my heart to another."
"The boy? The one in the inn? With the unicorn?"
"Yes."
"You should have let me take it back then, for my sisters and me. We could have been young again, well into the next age of the world. Your boy will break it, or waste it, or lose it. They all do."
"Nonetheless, he has my heart. I hope your sisters will not be too hard on you, when you return to them without it. — Neil Gaiman

None of the campers paid the ghosts much attention, but as Percy's entourage walked by, with Reyna in the lead and Frank and Hazel on either side, all the spirits stopped what they were doing and stared at Percy. A few looked angry. The little boy ghost shrieked something like "Greggus!" and turned invisible. — Rick Riordan

The Toyota plowed headlong into the boy. But there was no impact. No screams, no blood, no bending metal.
The boy simply dematerialized in a swirl of white light. — Laura Oliva

Every man will tell you little boys should not play with dolls but ask any mother and they will tell you, every little boy has gone to sleep cuddled into one at one time in there life. — Peter Fryer

I began thinking about why am I constructing almost a shadow father or ghost father in my head into Graham Greene in response to the father who created me? What's going on here? I think a part of my sense is it's every boy's story. When we are kids, we imagine that to define ourselves or to find ourselves means charting your own individuality, making your own destiny and actually running away from your parents and your home and what you grew up with. — Pico Iyer

In the other train, looking at me through the window, is the most beautiful boy I've ever seen. He has golden hair and bright blue eyes. His skin seems to glow softly, like he carries the sun inside him. One of his paint-stained hands is clutching his chest, like he just got punched, and the other is pressed flat against the glass of the window. I raise my hand and press it against my window, mirroring him. He looks so confused. Stunned. Like he's just seen a ghost. — Josephine Angelini

Her poetry is written on the ghost of trees, whispered on the lips of lovers.
As a little girl, she would drift in and out of libraries filled with dead poets and their musky scent. She held them in her hands and breathed them in
wanting so much to be part of their world ...
It was on her sixteenth birthday that she first fell in love. With a boy who brought her red roses and white lies. When he broke her heart, she cried for days.
Then hopeful, she sat with a pen in her hand, poised over the blank white sheet, but it refused to draw blood ...
She learned too late that poets are among the damned, cursed to commiserate over their loss, to reach with outstretched hands
hands that will never know the weight of what they seek. — Lang Leav

... remembered summer light, and the luminous inverted ghost of a boy with a parrot on his shoulder. — Michael Chabon

A boy went to a Halloween party with a sheet on his head. "Are you a ghost?" asked his friends. "No, I'm an unmade bed! — Various

SCHOOL BEGINS IN August this year. I live nearby, and so I walk and skip the bus. I read while I walk to school up the two hills, one sidewalk, a more or less straight line. I pretend the streets I pass through are empty. I have been reading about the Neutron Bomb. I want to be like that, radiant and deadly, a ghost of an impact, to pass through walls, to kill everyone, in flight among the empty houses, punching through molecules like a knife through a paper bag. See me. I am five feet and two inches tall. I am still thin, freckled, large eyes, small nose. My hair waves and grows long, to my neck. I pick flowers for my mother as I walk. The neighborhood kids call me Nature Boy. I want to die. Help — Alexander Chee

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 fight until they find their way to the edge of reality, as if coming straight out of a dream. — Edwin Fontanez