Psychic Vampire Quotes

I snuck a look to see how Eric was taking this, and he was staring at me the same way the Monroe vampires had. Thoughtful. Hungry. "That's interesting," he said. "I had a psychic once. It was incredible." "Did the psychic think so?

I think I just became psychic," he said. "Holy crap.

There are only two kinds of people who can drain your energy: those you love, and those you fear. In both instances it is you who let them in. They did not force their way into your aura, or pry their way into your reality experience.

In real life I do violence, but for psychic stuff I do other things better.

He assaulted the man with a psychic wave. "You are a cockroach." In his inebraited state, Cody had no resistance at all to a vampire mind control. He fell to the floor and scurried around the foyer on all fours. "I am a cockroach" he muttered in a squeaky voice. "Hmm, about time you figured that one out," Fidelia steped back as he brushed against her long skirt.

He’d walked as a ghost in the gloomy bowels of this opera house for so long, darkness had become his brother, which was fitting, since his father was the night, and sunlight their forgotten friend.

How do you hate someone who pulled you from the brink of death, not once, but twice?

I don’t sell spells, and I don’t sell tricks. I don’t carry illusions or marked cards or weighted coins. I cannot sell you an endless purse or help you win the lottery. I can’t make that girl you’ve got your eye on fall in love with you, and I wouldn’t do it even if I could. I don’t have a psychic hotline to your dead relatives, I don’t know if you’re going to be successful in your career, and I don’t know when you’re going to get married. I can’t get you into Hogwarts or any other kind of magic school, and if you even mention those stupid sparkly vampires I will do something unpleasant to you.

Now vampirism is contagious; the person who is vampirised, being depleted of vitality, is a psychic vacuum, himself absorbing form anyone he comes across in order to refill his depleted resources of vitality.

This can’t be a coincidence, and there’s no longer any doubt in my mind. I am in a horror story.

Oh, I thought. It’s on, bitch!

By means of an ingenious series of strategically deployed denials of the most exciting and exotic things, he was able to create the myth that he was a psychic, mystic, telepathic, fey, clairvoyant, psychosassic vampire bat. What did “psychosassic” mean? It was his own word and he vigorously denied that it meant anything at all.

You of all people know how hard it is to trust. Especially when the world we live in is not the one humans are aware of. Trust must be earned, and the way to earn it is to prove you deserve it.

Maybe being here won’t be so bad after all… as long as I can avoid the music, the bloodthirsty diva duo, and the phantom’s shadow lurking around every corner.

Psychic change, as Todorov has recognized, subverted the genre in another way, by revoking the cultural taboos, the social censorship, that had prohibited the overt treatment of psychosexual themes, which then found covert expression in the supernatural tale. 'There is no need today to resort to the devil [or to posthumous reverie] in order to speak of excessive sexual desire, and none to resort to vampires in order to designate the attraction exerted by corpses: psychoanalysis, and the literature which is directly or indirectly inspired by it, deal with these matters in undisguised terms. The themes of fantastic literature have become, literally, the very themes of the psychological investigations of the last fifty years.

It is your divine right and your spiritual duty to protect your energy field from unwanted influences. In the wise words of the Mahatma, do not allow anyone to walk through your mind with their dirty feet.

Nevertheless, the potential and actual importance of fantastic literature lies in such psychic links: what appears to be the result of an overweening imagination, boldly and arbitrarily defying the laws of time, space and ordered causality, is closely connected with, and structured by, the categories of the subconscious, the inner impulses of man's nature. At first glance the scope of fantastic literature, free as it is from the restrictions of natural law, appears to be unlimited. A closer look, however, will show that a few dominant themes and motifs constantly recur: deals with the Devil; returns from the grave for revenge or atonement; invisible creatures; vampires; werewolves; golems; animated puppets or automatons; witchcraft and sorcery; human organs operating as separate entities, and so on. Fantastic literature is a kind of fiction that always leads us back to ourselves, however exotic the presentation; and the objects and events, however bizarre they seem, are simply externalizations of inner psychic states. This may often be mere mummery, but on occasion it seems to touch the heart in its inmost depths and become great literature.

I thrust Sophie into a corner, blocking her with my body. She panted and snagged her lower lip in her teeth. “This is not my life,” she insisted. I looked at her solemnly. “I’m afraid it is. But it doesn’t have to be for long. Let’s just get through this. Then things go back to normal for you.” “Like they keep going back to normal for you?” Sophie hissed. “Ghost of your mother, psycho ex-best friend, company agent dating your dad, psychic vampire ex-boyfriend, werewolf current boyfriend—by the way, I can’t blame you for that one,” she confessed, eyes round as she mouthed the word whoa before continuing with her list, “Trip to the asylum, attempts against your life, vigilante father…” “Hey, the last ones are brand new. And the vigilante father thing? He’ll revert.” “Anyhow, I’m not so keen on your concept of normal.” I caught her staring at me.

Yes, as Damon had sat in the dimly-lit booth with Kenzy, he recognized the psychic screamer, and it was his own little redbird, Bonnie the brown-eyed enchantress, caught in a moment of unbearable trauma and funneling all her terror and distress into a tight psychic message addressed to him.               Someone was hurting Bonnie, he’d realized, perhaps even killing her.  That meant someone was going to be exceedingly sorry exceedingly soon. Whoever it was would learn the meaning of pain in a hundred languages before they would be allowed to die. Damon had flashed his most gorgeous barracuda smile at nothing at all.

Thanks. Hey, before I go, how’s the romance coming with that vampire, what’s his name?” “Vlad? I staked him. He was going to cheat on me and break my heart.” Sasha shrugged. “I broke his first.” Never screw around with a psychic. Especially not murderous ones.

He appears close to my age. The left half of his face stands out beneath the hood: one side of plump lips, one squared angle of a chin. Two coppery-colored eyes look back at me – bright and metallic. The sight makes me do a double take. As far as he is from the car, I shouldn’t be able to make out the color, yet they glimmer in the shadow of his cape, like pennies catching a flashlight’s glare in a deep well.

I don’t sell spells, and I don’t sell tricks. I don’t carry illusions or marked cards or weighted coins. I can not sell you an endless purse or help you win the lottery. I can’t make that girl you’ve got your eye on fall in love with you, and I wouldn’t do it even if I could. I don’t have a psychic hotline to your dead relatives, I don’t know if you’re going to be successful in your career, and I don’t know when you’re going to get married. I can’t get you into Hogwarts or any other kind of magic school, and if you even mention those stupid sparkly vampires I will do something unpleasant to you.

You're not," Jonas said, "a freak." "Says the psychic and the vampire," Sera said. "Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. You two are not exactly the experts on normal.

Dare to be, or dare not to be. That's the question".

So-called gnosis’ was an enormous temptation in the early Christian Church. By contrast, persecution, even the bloodiest, posed far less of a threat to the Church’s continuing purity and further development. Gnosticism had its roots in late antiquity, drew on oriental and Jewish sources, and multiplied into innumerable esoteric doctrines and sects. Then, like a vampire, the parasite took hold of the youthful bloom and vigour of Christianity. What made it so insidious was the fact that the Gnostics very often did not want to leave the Church. Instead, they claimed to be offering a superior and more authentic exposition of Holy Scripture, though, of course, this was only for the ‘superior souls’ (‘the spiritual’, ‘the pneumatic’); the common folk (‘the psychic’) were left to get on with their crude practices. It is not hard to see how this kind of compartmentalizing of the Church’s members, indeed of mankind as a whole, inevitably encouraged not only an excited craving for higher initiation, but also an almost unbounded arrogance in those who had moved from mere ‘faith’ to real, enlightened ‘knowledge’.

THE NINE SATANIC STATEMENTS 1. Satan represents indulgence, instead of abstinence! 2. Satan represents vital existence, instead of spiritual pipe dreams! 3. Satan represents undefiled wisdom, instead of hypocritical self-deceit! 4. Satan represents kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates! 5. Satan represents vengeance, instead of turning the other cheek! 6. Satan represents responsibility to the responsible, instead of concern for psychic vampires! 7. Satan represents man as just another animal, sometimes better, more often worse than those that walk on all-fours, who, because of his 'divine spiritual and intellectual development', has becomes the most vicious animal of all! 8. Satan represents all of the so-called sins, as they all lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification! 9. Satan has been the best friend the church has ever had, as he has kept it in business all these years!

Fabian didn't flinch under Vlad's harsh analysis. "You have no idea what it's like, existing between worlds," he said, floating closer instead of backing away. "We are neither the living or the undead. It takes years to cope with the fact that even though over ninety-nine percent of everyone who dies crosses over to the next place, you are left behind. Years to accept that everything you worked for in your life is gone, and the shell of memory is all that remains. Years to recover from hopelessly trying to communicate with loved ones, only to fail time and again because no one except the crazed, psychics, the undead, or other ghosts can see you. Years to accept---even if you don't understand why---that vampires and ghouls will treat you worse that they do vermin, even though they are no human than you are." Fabian advanced again, until his finger disappeared into Vlad's chest. "I'd dare the strongest of your race or any other to say that they've conquered the same hardships my people have overcome. So think again before you question a ghost's worth, or judge those younger ones who are still in the process of becoming tougher than anyone tied to flesh will ever be." Stunned silence filled the air once Fabian was finished. I wanted to break out in apologies and applause all at the same time, but I was still recovering from my shock at how my mild-mannered, Casperesque friend had just unloaded a truck full of I-dare-yous onto one of the scariest vampires in existence. Damned if I would ever underestimate a ghost's chutzpah again, or question their fortitude. Being noncorporeal clearly didn't equate to lacking a pair of balls.

Is that all?” asked the butler. His slightly melodic accent was nearly impossible to place. It could have been British, but it wasn’t any British accent I had ever heard. The words Old English came to mind, too. As in old, old English. This, I’m certain, was a psychic hit, but I could have been wrong. Just how old Franklin was remained to be seen. “Thank you, Franklin. That will be all,” said Kingsley, waving him off. The butler nodded. “If you and the lady need anything else, please do not hesitate to rouse me from a deep and satisfying sleep.” “We won’t, Franklin. Now, off you go!

Have you experienced feeling drained or tired after a few minutes of dealing with a certain person? The person has sucked your vital life energy. This is not done with malice or a bad intention. This is usually done subconsciously because the person is physically weak or sick. Due to this, he has a tendency to “vampirize” pranic energy or life energy from other people around him.

LaVey’s bible (1969), members worship the trinity of the devil—Lucifer, Satan, and the Devil—including nine pronouncements of the devil that Satan represents: 1. indulgence, instead of abstinence, 2. vital existence, instead of spiritual pipe dreams, 3. undefiled wisdom instead of hypocritical self-deceit, 4. kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates, 5. vengeance, instead of turning the other cheek, 6. responsibility, instead of concern for the psychic vampires, 7. man as just another animal, sometimes better, more often worse, than those who walk on all fours, who because of his divine and intellectual development has become the most vicious of all, 8. all of the so-called sins, as they lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification, 9. the best friend the church has ever had, as he has kept it in business all these years (LaVey, 1969, p. 25). Holmes (1990), who interviewed two

Dennis White has asked me to write a letter recommending him to the Emanuel Lutheran Seminary (Master of Divinity Program), and I am happy to grant his modest request. Four years ago Mr. White enrolled as a dewy-eyed freshman in one of my introductory literature courses (Cross-cultural Readings in English, or some such dumping ground of a title); he returned several years later for another dose of instruction, this time in the Junior/Senior Creative Writing Workshop—a particularly memorable collection of students given their shared enthusiasm for all things monstrous and demonic, nearly every story turned in for discussion involving vampires, werewolves, victims tumbling into sepulchers, and other excuses for bloodletting. I leave it to professionals in your line of work to pass judgment on this maudlin reveling in violence. A cry for help of some sort? A lack of faith — given the daily onslaught of news about melting ice caps, hunger, joblessness, war — in the validity or existence of a future? Now in my middle fifties, an irrelevant codger, I find it discomfiting to see this generation dancing to the music of apocalypse and carrying their psychic burdens in front of them like infants in arms.

...one of the key psychological characteristics of the Tea Party is its oxymoronic love of authority figures coupled with a narcissistic celebration of its own “revolutionary” defiance. It’s this psychic weakness that allows this segment of the population to be manipulated by the likes of Sarah Palin and Glenn Beck. The advantage is that their willingness to take orders has allowed them to organize effectively (try getting one hundred progressives at a meeting focused on anything). The downside is, they see absolutely nothing weird in launching a revolution based upon the ravings of a guy who’s basically a half-baked PR stooge shoveling propaganda coal for bloodsucking transnational behemoths like JPMorgan Chase and Goldman Sachs.

It is vital that you do not change the path before you. I have told you, many times, that certain events must happen in a person’s life for a reason, always for a reason. The events that will unfold before you...they must happen, Heather. They have to.

Let the past go, Bren, or it will ruin your future.

Italy is another Pack’s territory. You’re a guest; make sure that you are a polite one.” God, I hope he told Heather that.

People can speak to teapots and hear their answers as clearly as you are reading this now. We call them psychotics and give them drugs. People can speak to ghosts and hear their answers. We call them psychics and give them money. People can speak to gods and receive their message. We call them prophets and give them our souls. The social definition of who is speaking is more important than the message and until we know what ‘normal’ is how can we even grasp what is ‘paranormal’?

Leannán sídhe meant “fairy lover,” but they were anything but. That kind were a sort of psychic vampire, similar to succubi. Their magic caused humans to fall madly and deeply in love with them, at which point the leannán sídhe would drain their life energies bit by bit, until their lover withered away and died of seemingly natural causes. In some cases, they’d even abandon their lovers out of spite, just to see them die of grief and loneliness.

As children we are told a great lie, we are told that there are no monsters in this world.

Vampires are the opposite of empaths in that they are takers. They crave attention and praise. These vampires are also called narcissists.

Born in Ireland, Michael Tsarion is an expert on the occult histories of Ireland and America. He has made the deepest researches into Atlantis, origins of evil and Irish origins of civilization. He is author of acclaimed books Atlantis, Alien Visitation and Genetic Manipulation, Astro-Theology and Sidereal Mythology, Irish Origins of Civilization, and Trees of Life: Exposing the Art of Holy Deception. Michael gives outstanding presentations on the Western Magical Tradition, Hermetic Arts of Divination, Atlantis and the Prehistoric Ages, Astro-Theology, Origins of Evil, Secret Societies, War on Consciousness, Subversive Use of Sacred Symbolism in the Media, Symbol Literacy and Psychic Vampirism. Visit Michael online at mtsar.com, or go to unslaved.com to view all Michael's merchandise.

I was sitting in a movie theater at 4:13 in the morning, with a faerie muse who had vaguely psychic vampire tendencies, watching The Sixth Sense. At this point in my life I’d had some pretty freaky, surreal experiences already, such as (1) watching my best friend move things with her mind, (2) being dragged from my wrecked car by a soulless faerie assassin, and (3) feeling the inexorable pull of the king of the dead’s nightly song. And really, sitting with Nuala and watching a crazy little boy tell Bruce Willis that he saw dead people should’ve been included amongst them.

Oh, girl! He's got a big one,” the fortune teller exclaimed, her dark eyes briefly flickering up to Violet's face before returning back to the cards spread out in front of her. She paused for a moment as she studied them, her pointer finger tapping against her jaw. Finally, she added, “Just like a summer sausage, and I'm not talking about the snack-sized ones. And it's attached to a body that could put Dwayne Johnson to shame. What women could resist a package like that? I'd say the future is definitely going to be bright... at least for you.

You have to stop doing, you know, human stuff,” I called. “It is seriously creepy coming from a wolf.

We’ll be all right. Somehow, we will. Trust it is the truth.

You were supposed to be a Werewolf, Brendan, so that you would be in her world. To be the strength she needs when she no longer has strength of her own, to show her the reasons to survive and to live.

It has nothing to do with you—” “It has everything to do with me that you want to get yourself fucking killed.” He snarled, the words tight and full of iron. “Losing you is not an option.

Once humans learned how to enter the psychic plane, then it wouldn’t be long before they discovered what shouldn’t exist. Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. La Llorona. El Cucuy. Fairies. Then humans would do to us what they did to the dodo birds, the passenger pigeon, and most of the Native Americans.

I lifted my head, my gaze meeting his. “Wanting something doesn’t guarantee you will get it.” “A man can still hope.” “I’ve never had much room for hope.

I’ve been as good as dead since the day I was born. I accepted that a very long time ago.

There was a time when I didn’t seem to need such things, when I would have been amused and perhaps even vaguely disgusted at the notion of living like some sort of psychic vampire, a lingering revenant pressed up against one-way glass, looking with forlorn and futile eyes at the ordinary life fate had denied him.

Why? Because your grandfather gets hunches and you have some sort of psychic abilities, do you automatically believe everything? Someone walks in your door saying she can torch the place using her mind, do you accept it as fact? Demons, vampires, werewolves? Sounds like a good idea for a TV show. Your partner is named Sam—are you sure your name isn’t Dean?

Fire and sword laid waste the Earth. Darkness stalked the land. From the ashes of defeat and the smoke of despair, the people of Earth, searching for a future, plundered the past. It was the time of the Great Concoction, when the world was remade. In the thirty-first century of Our Lord, the Europe of the past rose again in the shape of Europa. In Europa, history was reborn. The geologic upheavals of Europa's formation resulted in an acute psychic backlash, manifested in periodic shifts in reality and embodied hallucinations. Spatial dimensions became mercurial in their behaviour. Entire counties could be crammed into a field. These anomalies were exacerbated by advances in psionics which produced dream worlds that were as close to the notion of a real supernatural as makes no odds. Spectres, poltergeists, fallen angels, unfallen angels, trolls, hobgoblins, vampires, werewolves and suchlike entities sprang into pseudo-being. It was upon this ontological quicksand that the Dominions of Europa were founded, recreations of ancient European countries, each containing several time periods. Within each of these historical eras there existed a small percentage of 'Reprises'; clones of famous figures from history artificially encoded with the appropriate personality matrix. These Reprises were prone to severe identity confusion. Yet more acute was the confusion of the fictional Reprises, clones of actors who became identified with particular roles: in these cases, it was not the actor's personality that was encoded into clone-body, but the role he played. By the thirty-third century, Europa was plunging into chaos. Reality unravelled. It was a time of heroes, whimsical worlds, blood and thunder, and general Byronic excess. Dark powers arose. Fearful villagers locked their shutters at night. Fire and sword laid waste the Earth. Darkness stalked... Excerpt from The Tenebrous Testaments of the House of Rue. chapter XIV. volume CLXVII [From Count (Baron) Dracula and Baron (Count) Frankenstein]

Some of these are outlined in The Urban Primitive, which I put out with Tannin Schwartzstein (especially the second edition); some other useful ones can be found in Basic Psychic Hygiene by Sophie Reicher.

My local library was whole shelves in the older children's section on vampires and demons — and not a single sensible psychic advice book.

When you interact with a negative person, it is best to respond instead of reacting. Simply put, be the bigger person. If they yell, call you names, or criticize you, take a moment to either respond calmly or simply walk away. Choosing the high road will prevent you from stooping to their level and allowing them to drain your energy. This will also help you stay in control of your emotions and the situation. Understand You Can’t Change Them

The end of the twentieth century and the dawn of the new millennium had seen something of a renaissance in the public awareness of the paranormal. Psychics, haunts, vampires—you name it. People still didn’t take them seriously, but all the things Science had promised us hadn’t come to pass. Disease was still a problem. Starvation was still a problem. Violence and crime and war were still problems. In spite of the advance of technology, things just hadn’t changed the way everyone had hoped and thought they would. Science, the largest religion of the twentieth century, had become somewhat tarnished by images of exploding space shuttles, crack babies, and a generation of complacent Americans who had allowed the television to raise their children. People were looking for something—I think they just didn’t know what. And even though they were once again starting to open their eyes to the world of magic and the arcane that had been with them all the while, they still thought I must be some kind of joke.

Use a 1 for victim syndromes (Vampire, Mule, Healer’s) that cause you to put others first or take on their energy. • Employ a 2 if you want to partner with someone, but not give away your power, such as when you’re afflicted with the Healer’s or Vampire Syndrome. • Try a 3 if you’re dealing with the No-Boundary or Environ Syndromes and are constantly in chaos. • Use a 4 if you are too often pulled on by others and need to ground yourself. This number benefits all the syndromes. • Utilize a 5 if you are overworked, such as in the Mule Syndrome, and need to perceive different directions. A 5 is also good for breaking the repetitive cycles of Paper Doll Syndrome. • Call on a 6 if you’re afflicted by evil, such as through the Psychic-Sensitive Syndrome, or to choose higher service instead of the chaos of the No-Boundary Syndrome. A 6 is also good for helping those with Paper Doll Syndrome face and release the unconscious benefit of a repetitive pattern and find a more joyful way to respond to life. • Try a 7 for any syndrome because it will invoke divine assistance. • Employ an 8 to break or erase cycles caused by the Paper Doll Syndrome. • Use a 9 with any other number to state you are done with a syndrome. • Insert a 10 to boost your new intention. • Formulate an 11 to access spiritual guidance and transform the storyline that established the syndrome. • When working on your spiritual boundaries, try a 12 to support forgiveness. • Add a 22 to a boundary to help achieve success. • Use a 33, especially for the No-Boundary and Psychic-Sensitive Syndromes, to open to our own wisdom.

Shape-shifting your physical boundaries into a circle keeps others’ illnesses, work, and malignancies out of your energetic fields and encourages connection. Shaping them into a square provides immediate protection and repels vampirism and psychic attacks of any sort; establishing new boundaries in a square is especially beneficial if you are a no-boundary or psychically sensitive person. Using a triangle invites a new response or outcome. Invoke more power from these shapes by wearing jewelry with the noted shape and color, or even drawing the desired symbol on a part of your body.

There's psychic Vampires in this world that will stress the shitzit out of you by bombarding you with their problems and BS then afterwards they”ll walk away and enjoy their day. When you get up in your golden years you've got to learn to let it go and enjoy each day because too much stress...will kill you! Living in the one day more mode will always prevent a heart attack and help you live a longer and better life. Just saying!

You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said, about vampirism being the ultimate oral fixation.” I groaned. “Please, can we give this whole vampire thing a rest?” “I don’t mean vampires as blood suckers or soul suckers. But as oral robbers.” My brow furrowed. “Oral robbers?” “Yes. Those who steal with their mouths—not by way of fangs, but with words.” “I don’t understand,” I said. Grayson turned his back on me and reached back into the cupboard. “What if I told you I was thinking of letting you go, Drex?” My gut fell four inches. “What? Why? What did I do wrong?” He turned back around. “Did you feel an internal shift?” “Internal shift?” I said. “I feel destroyed. Like I want to throw up! Why are you doing this?” “To prove my point.” “What point? That I’m no good?” “No. That in a way, we’re all oral robbers—with our words.” “Huh?” I whined. Grayson studied me clinically. “All I did was utter some particular arrangement of tones through my vocal chords. You interpreted them as words, and applied your own meaning to them.” I was hurt. And on my last nerve with Grayson’s stupid analogies. “Come on, Grayson! Just tell me. Am I fired, or what?” Grayson locked his green eyes on mine. “My words formed images in your mind that sent chemical and hormonal secretions into your bloodstream, causing emotions that shifted your entire world view.” I glared at him. “Fine. I’ll pack my bags and leave with the Triple A guy.” “See?” Grayson said. “Now you’re insecure about your whole future, based on a couple of words that came out of my mouth.” “You’d be undone, too, if you just got fired and had to go back to Point Paradise and work with Earl!” “That’s just it,” Grayson said. “You don’t have to. I didn’t fire you. I only asked you, ‘What if I told you I was thinking of letting you go?’ You did the rest yourself.” I blanched. “So ... I’m not fired?” “No. Like I said before, it was all to prove my point. Every word we say is a psychic vampire, Drex, striking others with the power of suggestion that either drains or boosts the energy of its intended target.” “Oh,” I said, feeling a wave of confused relief wash over me. “In other words, we all live and die by the thoughts and words we chose to believe?