ghosts

The ghosts will eat everything because the bellies of ghosts want the whole world, just to fill one tiny corner.

It wasn't until I worked in the Perth Hospital kitchen in the 1970s that I began hearing stories about the ghosts that haunted their halls at night.

Elvis is in the kitchen and he__ making eggs Benedict!

Love was like swallowing a cili padi whole.

Jim said he believed it was spirits, but I says: no, spirits wouldn't say "dern the dern fog".

Did you ever feel a creeping,That awoke you from your sleeping,That made your pulses flutter and bristled all your hair;While a horrid stealthy crawlingPrevented you from calling,And something seemed to tell you that a ghost was coming there?

Back in the 1800's, Ormsby Island was one of South Carolina's crown jewels. The island was owned by Maxwell Ormsby, a very wealthy man who liked to entertain everyone from heads of state to artists and authors and anyone who knew how to make money in business. An invitation to the island was a declaration that you were someone on the move. Once a year, Ormsby opened the island up to the public and hosted a huge fair. It was the social event of the year in these parts. My family still talks about the days when my great grandmother would take the family out to enjoy the festivities. It must have been some party.

In addition to unfinished business, some ghosts haunt so that they will be remembered.

I have seen worse things than ghosts, and if one were to appear to me, I should have so many questions to ask of it that it would have no time to groan and moan and shake its chains.

Our brains are hardwired to think in terms of place and to associate psychic value or meaning to the places we inhabit.

This house has enough nooks and crannies for English muffins.

Each night at bedtime, I'd close the bedroom door, climb into bed, and settle in under the covers. Within a minute, the door handle would turn and the door slowly open about a foot. Then a young boy's screams of "Daddy" would follow from the second bedroom - the little boy's room.

No one is nothing. Everyone has a place and a purpose. Some choose their purpose and others have it thrust upon them but no one is useless. Everyone is someone. The world has use for us all.

Of all ghosts, the ghosts of our old loves are the worst.

There were two things Southerners hated to see knocking on their door. Jehovah Witnesses, because the majority of us were Baptist, and the undertaker. It was understandable that when Terk Rhinehammer opened the door, his face turned white as all the blood was drained from it after he looked past me and saw my hearse. "What's wrong?" He used his hands to pat down his chest. "I'm not dead, am I?

I was in a strip club trying to help a ghost get laid which was challenging, but not impossible.

Charleston is an extraordinary place. There is a deep connection between the residents and nearly three hundred and fifty years of history, and those ties between daily life and the distant past are strengthened by the occasional glimpse beyond the veil.

You pretty much have to take the job since you hit him with the car.