scary

We make, see, and love films, not digitals. To convert all of our movies, home videos, theaters, photographs and television to digital would be like telling a painter to throw away his brushes and canvas for an I-Pad. Celluloid isn't just nostalgic, it's an art form and, like it or not, it's superior to digital. It lasts much longer, it provides grain and brighter colors, and it takes more effort so that it produces something wonderful. With the inferior binary codes, pixels and untested shelf-life of digital files, plus the fact that these days anyone with a digital camera, even a two-year-old, can make a video and pollute the world with self-photography and cat pictures, film has a lot more integrity and worth than digital.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms _ just the two of us are still alive _

Forget the American dream...whats your dream? The thing that keeps you up at night...the thing that makes you happy...the thing that keeps your spirit going. Do that thing. Don't label it a hobby or what you do in your spare time type of thing...label that thing you do the thing you love to do. The thing you were born to do. When you stop doing what you love you lose a huge part of yourself. Don't get lost.

The dead weren__ scary. It was the living you had to watch out for.

A long time ago, there was a little girl called Mary. Now Mary, she was warned several times not to go to her neighbor__ house. Her neighbor was a grandmother. But Mary hardly listened, so she snuck off one night to spy on her. She tried the front door first, and it creaked open. Then suddenly, she heard a squeaking noise upstairs. She followed it _ climbed up the wooden stairs where half of it was already rotten. She heard the squeaking noise again. It was coming from the library. She opened the door and hid behind a couch. She peered out, and she saw the grandmother._ Dave paused to drain his cup of coffee before continuing. My heart thudded so loudly, I thought that everyone could hear it. __o Mary gasped in disbelief as she heard the squeaking noise again, and the grandmother__ rocking chair was not moving at all. Then the grandmother opened her eyes and looked directly at her, holding her gaze steadily and sharply, and then suddenly, BOO!

Strength and victory... What he would never praise himself for, but whose loss was his most obsessive fear.

How scary and sudden the shift from Living to Dead.

I never said you had to like it. You have to accept it. No regret."-Clare Harding.

Come out, come out, wherever you are... come out, come out, or you'll end up in the tar...

It waited for her. Standing resolute in the moonlight, it had stood for a hundred years. Yet it waited just for her. Shadows passed across the moon, a cool breeze ruffled the leaves around it. Yet still it waited for her. Ancient tombs glowed in shimmery moonlight, row upon row of cold silent witnesses.

The dark sky seemed to swallow the moon, as Samantha stood alone on the deserted highway.

They thought he was scared all the time because he was a coward. The truth was, only he could see the world clearly enough to know how truly scary it was.

You can't live in your mind and expect those dreams to become real, without the work. Reality requires actions that might feel scary, but that is what is required if you want to find true love. Don't expect it to come and rescue you. You have to rescue yourself.

Minds that have withered into psychosis are far more terrifying than any character of fiction.

Who would have ever thought going to a library would be so scary?

Depths of Friendship...under fathoms deepof dark and bitter coldan eerie oscillationreverberated brash and bold...

Of course I'm out of my mind. It's dark and scary in there.

I think one who thrives on death may be defeated by life.Elswyth, from A Precarious Journey Into Magic