Richard Matheson Quotes

Morality fell with society

He ignored that, beginning to suspect his mind of harboring an alien. Once he might have termed it conscience. Now it was only an annoyance. Morality, after all, had fallen with society. He was his own ethic.

I think we're yearning for something beyond the every day. And I will tell you I don't believe in the supernatural, I believe in the supernormal. To me there is nothing that goes against nature. If it seems incomprehensible, it's only because we haven't been able to understand it yet.

The silence of the library was complete save for the thudding of his shoes as he walked along the second-floor hallway. Outside, there were birds sometimes and, even lacking that, there seemed to be a sort of sound outside. Inexplicable, perhaps, but it never seemed deathly still in the open as it did inside a building.
Especially here in this giant, gray-stoned building that housed the literature of a world's dead.

People on earth are never alone,” he explained. “There’s always someone as a guide for each individual.

Send her loving thoughts,” he told me. “That’s all?” “That’s quite a lot, Chris,” he said. “Thoughts are very real.

What would a Mohammedan vampire do if faced with a cross? The

Morality, after all, had fallen with society. He was his own ethic.

If I could die now, he thought; peacefully, gently, without a tremor or a crying out. If I could be with her. If I could believe I would be with her.

I’m an animal! he exulted. I’m a dumb, stupid animal and I’m going to drink!

It was more than a spider. It was every unknown terror in the world fused into wriggling, poison-jawed horror. It was every anxiety, insecurity, and fear in his life given a hideous, night-black form.

To look at the entire journey all at once was stupidity. You thought of it in segments; that was the only way.

Toward the end of the plague, yellow journalism had spread a cancerous dread of vampires to all corners of the nation. He could remember himself the rash of pseudo-scientific articles that veiled an out-and-out fright campaign designed to sell papers. There was something grotesquely amusing in that; the frenetic attempt to sell papers while the world died. Not that all newspapers had done that. Those papers that had lived in honesty and integrity died the same way.

Siempre, a pesar de todo, había deseado encontrar a un semejante: hombre, mujer, niño, no importaba. Sin la incesante influencia de las masas, el sexo perdía rápidamente importancia. En cambio, la soledad seguía en primera línea.

Well, why not? Why not go out? It was a sure way to be free of them.