C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


  • A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
  • Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
  • Shakespeare.

  • So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
  • Have started from their graves to-night,
  • They have driven sleep from mine eyes away;
  • I will go down to the chapel and pray.
  • Longfellow.

  • Who gather round, and wonder at the tale
  • Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly,
  • That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand
  • O’er some new-open’d grave; and (strange to tell!)
  • Evanishes at crowing of the cock.
  • Blair.

  • Now it is the time of night,
  • That the graves, all gaping wide,
  • Every one lets forth its sprite,
  • In the church-way paths to glide.
  • Shakespeare.

  • My people too were scared with eerie sounds,
  • A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls,
  • A noise of falling weights that never fell,
  • Weird whispers, bells that rang without a hand,
  • Door-handles turn’d when none was at the door,
  • And bolted doors that open’d of themselves;
  • And on betwixt the dark and light had seen
  • Her, bending by the cradle of her babe.
  • Tennyson.