Halloween Themed Quotes

Positive. In other news, Marcie's throwing a Halloween party here at the farmhouse." Patch smiled. "Grey - Millar family drama?" "The theme is famous couples from history. Could she be any less original? Worse, she's roped my mom into this. They went shopping for decorations today. For three whole hours. It's like they're suddenly best friends." I picked up another apple slice and made a face at it. "Marcie is ruining everything. I wanted Scott to go with Vee, but Marcie already convinced him to go with her." Patch's smile widened. I aimed my best sulky look at him. "This isn't funny. Marcie is destroying my life. Whose side are you on anyway?" Patch raised his hands in surrender. "I'm staying out of this.

The days are passing so quickly. This is the only time of year when I want to slow time down. I spend the entire year trying to get here as fast as I can, then once I'm here I want to slam on the brakes. I'm beginning to have those moments when the feel of autumn is so strong it drowns out everything else. Lately it's been making me think about the perfect soundtrack for a Halloween party. The top of any Halloween music list as to be the theme song from the movie Halloween; right on its heels is "Pet Sematary" by the Ramones. For some reason I've always equated the old Van Morrison song "Moondance" with Halloween, too. I love that song. "Bela Lugosi's Dead" by Bauhaus is an October classic, as well as anything by Type O Negative. And Midnight Syndicate. If you've never heard anything by Midnight Syndicate, look them up right this moment. If you distilled the raw essence of every spooky story you ever heard, you would have Midnight Syndicate. I have a friend who swears by them, believing them to be a vital element of any Halloween party. To finish off the list you must have "The Lyre of Orpheus" by Nick Cave and "I Feel Alright" by Steve Earle.

You rang?” Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Okay, Lurch.

As you wish.” Amethyst rolled her eyes and started laughing. “Don’t start, Westley.

Women have always been the most important part of monster movies. As I walked home one night, I realized why. Making my way down dark city streets to my apartment in Brooklyn, I was alert and on edge. I was looking for suspicious figures, men that could be rapists, muggers or killers. I felt like Laurie Strode in Halloween. Horror is a pressure valve for society's fears and worries: monsters seeking to control our bodies, villains trying to assail us in the darkness, disease and terror resulting from the consequences of active sexuality, death. These themes are the staple of horror films. There are people who witness these problems only in scary movies. But for much of the population, what is on the screen is merely an exaggerated version of their everyday lives. These are forces women grapple with daily. Watching Nancy Thompson escape Freddy Krueger's perverted attacks reminds me of how I daily fend off creeps asking me to smile for them on the subway. Women are the most important part of horror because, by and large, women are the ones the horror happens to. Women have to endure it, fight it, survive it — in the movies and in real life. They are at risk of attack from real-life monsters. In America, a woman is assaulted every nine seconds. Horror films help explore these fears and imagine what it would be like to conquer them. Women need to see themselves fighting monsters. That’s part of how we figure out our stories. But we also need to see ourselves behind-the-scenes, creating and writing and directing. We need to tell our stories, too.

[on Halloween] Shaya could hear the clump-clump-clump of their mother's feet on the stairs. When she appeared in the living room doorway, neither Shaya nor Dev could speak. "Oh, gosh," Shaya finally said. "Well? What do you think?" Shaya's lips moved, but she couldn't find the words. Finally Dev uttered, "Mom, you're a… cow." "Right! So that Shaya and I could do a theme." At their blank expressions, she said. "Get it? Cowgirl… cow." Shaya finally found her voice. "Mom, you're… huge. You're huge and black and white and you have an udder.

The noodle/worm idea was appealing to me. I hadn't made pasta in the competition yet. And noodle kugel was a traditional Jewish dish that held tight to my heart... and could also be made to look extremely disturbing. To be honest, it could be a little gross-looking on the best of days. Noodles submerged in a creamy cheese base, some of them sticking up top to get crispy in the oven. Raisins or other fruits flecking the kugel like little bugs. Maybe I could make the whole thing graveyard-themed. If I was going to make something so rich and heavy and creamy, my other dish should balance it out by being light and savory. And spooky, of course. Maybe organ meats? Chicken feet were extremely scary-looking, maybe with some kind of beet sauce...

Today, the theme is Unusual Hauntings and our challenge is to create a display with at least two ghosts or spirits hanging out somewhere you wouldn’t typically expect to find them. Like an arcade. Only we did that yesterday so I’m thinking the judges wouldn’t be too impressed if we built them another one. “This is tricky,” Auggie declares, running a hand through his shaggy hair as we try our best to come up with something original. “What makes you say that?” Terry asks. “Because ghosts can hang out anywhere. Ships, theme parks... I’ve even heard of Walmarts that are haunted!” “So, no grocery ghosts, then?” I remark. “Okay, let’s look at it this way. Ghosts can hang out anywhere, but that doesn’t mean that they do,” Terry points out. “I can think of a few places I wouldn’t want to spend my eternal afterlife. Like the dentist’s.” “Or a math class,” I shudder. “Or the reptile house at the zoo,” Auggie says. “What’s wrong with herpetariums?” Terry asks. “Geckos scare me,” Auggie replies like it’s a totally normal thing to say.

The chill of the October air pricks the bare flesh of my torso. I clear the tree line and step into the woods just as the theme song from Halloween pumps from the manor. I cackle loudly along with my madness as it embraces the vibe of Michael’s murderous tendencies.

Did you remember my tennis-themed Halloween party this weekend? Yes. Not really, no. Where is it again? My house. Well, my dad's house. Should I feel bad for hosting it while he's out of town? Not when he still owes you for a lifetime of disappointment.

Between the nightly offerings, the way it reveled in our fear, the constant shifting of its ‘costume’, the ritual it fulfilled regardless of our participation every All Hallows’ Eve, and its propensity to recite Halloween-themed riddles and rhymes, the townspeople at some point started referring to it as Halloween.

makeup.

It was a beautiful fall day at the soccer fields when I met Stacy for the first time. The game had just begun when she arrived carrying homemade pumpkin spice muffins with cream cheese frosting for everyone, photos of the jack-o’-lantern she had elaborately carved earlier that morning into the shape of a witch stirring a bubbling cauldron with the rising steam spelling out the word “Boo,” enough material and glue for each of the siblings not playing soccer to make adorable “easy no-sew” bat wings as a fun craft to fill their time, as well as little gift bags for every mother full of Halloween-themed wine charms and sleep masks that were embroidered with “Sleeping for a spell.” Besides her generous gifts, she also looked terrific. She was wearing the perfect fall outfit with just the right number of layers and textures and cool boots. Her hair was beautifully twisted into a loose braid casually thrown over one shoulder. While everyone sat in their lawn chair and screamed at their kid to “attack the ball,” Stacy ran up and down the sidelines taking (no doubt fabulous) photos of her son and overseeing the siblings’ craft bonanza. At this point I should also mention, in case you don’t feel bad enough about yourself, that Stacy has a full-time job outside the home. Like a really important one. I’m not sure what she does exactly, but from the thirty seconds that she slowed down long enough to talk to me, I learned that she works fifty hours a week or so and travels around the country every few days and then comes home and makes her kids pancakes in the shape of clovers for breakfast, because it’s International Clover Day or some shit like that.

I flip through those two “fancy” hangers again and again—and even expand the search to the “not fancy” section of the closet. I scour the “outgrew it but not ready to say goodbye” section in the way back of the closet, but the shirt is nowhere to be found. Blergh! In desperation, I drop down to my pile of “let’s see if they still smell tomorrow” clothes on the floor, pinching my nose closed as I rummage through the mountain of stinky horse-themed tops and gym clothes. “Aha!” I bravely plunge my arm into the pile of stench. There, hiding at the very bottom, is the missing white button-down. Of course! I wore it back in October for my Amelia Earhart costume at the Halloween parade! It must have somehow disappeared in my Bermuda Triangle of laundry . . . for three months. Yikes. I

Okay, first there are the angels on horseback and devils on horseback." Blake shakes his head. "Remind me what those are?" "An English thing. Angels on horseback are baked oysters wrapped in bacon. Devils are the same thing with dates instead of oysters." Blake nods. "Got it. What else?" "I'm going to slow-cook the barbecued ribs and serve them as 'skeleton ribs,' and I'll serve up the calamari tentacles as 'deep-fried spiders.' Then I'll roast the shrimp and arrange them in glasses of ice to look like claws or fingers, which people can dip into a 'Bloody Mary' cocktail sauce. And I'll scatter platters of deviled eggs around the living and dining rooms." "Think that'll be enough food?" "Definitely, I'll throw some cheese and crudités into the mix, too. Oh, and dessert- spiced devil's food cupcakes and blood orange sorbet.

The theme of witches and witchcraft for me often has more to do with women’s history than with spells and magic. That women have drawn strength from controlling health—medical issues, birth issues—has also made them threatening. The same is true for “witches”—strong women in touch with the natural world. Women who can’t be controlled are often viewed as dangerous. I always find it amusing to see, even still, how many little girls dress up as witches on Halloween. There’s a pull to “our” history: brave, mysterious, powerful.

And who are these guys that run this Haunted Hayride? This amusement park of pure evil. Just exactly what are they getting out of it? I think maybe you should ask yourself that very question the next time you go to a haunted house or a haunted hayride or even a scary attraction at a theme park. What do the people who get so much enjoyment out of scaring you to death get out of it? But be careful if you ask yourself that question. Be very careful. Because the answer might not be what you want to hear.