Psychological Thriller Quotes

Jenny retained a flimsy essence of the truth. It was a quiet knowing she'd always hold in her heart...''Broken Mirror by Oliver Rixon

~ Oliver Rixon

Jenny sensed the energy of the cosmos. It was like a harmonious orchestra vibrating the universe into existence.' Broken Mirror by Oliver Rixon

~ Oliver Rixon

Everything is an echo of something I once read.Dream, hope, and celebrate life!Love always comes back in a song.One thing we all have in common is a love for food and drink.Memories never die, and dreams never end!What is time?

~ John Siwicki

Whatever’s eating at you, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.”The Barn, by Ken Cruickshank

~ Ken Cruickshank

Whatever’s eating at you, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.”The Barn

~ Ken Cruickshank

Whatever’s eating at you, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.

~ Ken Cruickshank

My mind is quiet now. There is no fire or ash, no sulfur or shattering glass. Only silence, empty and cold.

~ Christine Fonseca

Didn’t anyone ask you where your parents are?They asked. Especially about my parents.What did you tell them?I said I ate them.Jesus, Rosa.

~ Justine Larbalestier

My thoughts are quiet, but not calm. There is a terror on the edge of the silence, a terror fed by my burning flesh and the stench of death.

~ Christine Fonseca

Ien stopped her voice with more kisses, more promises of a world filled with only them.

~ Christine Fonseca

She opens her eyes as the fury continues, pinning me with her glare. Her gaze reached into my soul as I spin the music back to the simple melody at its core—our melody. A moment of recognition washes over her, followed by regret, fear, terror. An entire kaleidoscope of emotions exists within a single heartbeat.

~ Christine Fonseca

Forever. He carved the word into his soul. Kiera was his forever, deformity or no deformity.

~ Christine Fonseca

Sometimes, we miss the truth when it's right in front of us, she thought. Sometimes the closer we are, the harder it is to see.

~ Jacqueline Simon Gunn

It’s as if he’s trodden in my footsteps, seen what I’ve seen, felt what I’ve felt, as I’ve criss-crossed the moors countless times.

~ Sanjida Kay

They stole you from me. They took you away for seven years. Your entire lifetime. A life sentence. The waiting has been endless. The watching. The planning. Now, finally, I’m almost ready. I’ve got a few things to take care of and then we can be reunited.

~ Sanjida Kay

Make no mistake, my darling. I am coming for you. I will take you back.

~ Sanjida Kay

If we were walking here together, I’d point out the carnivorous plants that grow on this spot: sundews with sticky red leaves, eating insects to sustain them because the soil is so poor. If you were with me, I’d take you to the Doubler Stones, where thousands of years ago, Neolithic peoples carved channels in the rock to drain away the blood from their sacrifices. I would show you where the plover nests, and the green hairstreak butterfly lays its eggs. I love this place. I love this land. It’s part of me, it’s part of who I am. But it’s no place for you: a seven-year-old girl in a princess costume.

~ Sanjida Kay

Where I’m taking you, no one will ever find us. We’ll have all the time in the world for you to grow to love me as much as I love you.

~ Sanjida Kay

Tesco at the best of times is soulless – but it’s so much worse at 6 in the morning. It’s not as empty as I thought it would be. Who the fuck shops at 6 a.m.? e florescent lights flicker. e shelf upon shelf of coloured cans make my eyes go funny. Everything is hard and shiny and there’s so much fucking choice. Why do I have to choose from thirty kinds of granola? Do I want Country Crunch or Rude Health? Raisins and almonds or tropical? Goji berries and chia seeds or Strawberry Surprise? I’ll just buy the Tesco range – that’ll be easiest. No, wait, there’s Tesco finest*, Tesco Everyday Value and Tesco Free From. What can be so damn fine about granola? You eat it everyday and what could it be free from? It hasn’t got anything unhealthy in it! What could one possibly take out? Actually, we don’t need any fucking granola.

~ Sanjida Kay

Mum, your heart is the same size as your fist,’ she told me once in delight, and we both made our hands into fists and held them against our chests and bumped them together: hands as hearts.

~ Sanjida Kay

I don’t believe he was deliberately taking indecent pictures, they’re too artistic; he’s managed to capture that magical moment when a child’s mind spins into a make-believe world. But actually, what Jack did is steal something – a child’s innocence – whilst creating something darker that will resonate with the adults looking at these photos: themes of sexuality and death, the leitmotifs that run through fairy tales, the stories that we tell ourselves about our children.

~ Sanjida Kay

She said that the mummy and the daddy took their daughter up onto the moor. They had a picnic. They’d brought all of her favourite food – cheese sandwiches on white bread with the crusts cut off and strawberry-pink cupcakes – and when the little girl had finished eating, she looked around for her mummy and the daddy. But they’d gone. They’d left Evelyn on the moor by herself.

~ Sanjida Kay

I can’t believe I ever thought reading to her was a chore. I’d sit here some nights, fidgeting, thinking of all the things I needed to do, my voice hoarse, reluctant to read, ‘just one more chapter,’ wishing I could escape to my glass of wine. What did I have to do that was so important? What could be more important than reading my daughter a bedtime story?

~ Sanjida Kay

Here we are, squabbling over tuna fucking sandwiches and there she is – almond-shaped green eyes, snub nose, lopsided grin, the hint of a dimple in her cheek. ‘MISSING’ is stamped over her face in large black letters.

~ Sanjida Kay

Evie is our beautiful, dark-haired, green-eyed child,’ I say. I can hear the tremor in my voice. ‘Like many seven-year-old girls, she’s obsessed with princesses. We think she looks more like a fairy. She loves Lego and painting. She laughs easily. She has pretend tea parties in a tree in our garden and invites all her dolls. She wants to be an artist when she grows up. Please find her. Please bring her back to us. We miss her beyond measure. She is the love of our life.

~ Sanjida Kay

She shivers. ‘I can’t understand why anyone would want to live out there. You’d be totally isolated.’
 I do. I could imagine waking up each day and instead of looking out of the window and seeing the moor in the distance, you’d be in the heart of it, feeling the wind turn, the storm rage, the rain lash, hear the plovers piping.

~ Sanjida Kay

My husband hands me my glass, full to the brim with green-gold wine and I stifle my resentment and attempt to smile at him. I mustn’t lose sight of what we have – two beautiful children; an amazing house that I never, in a million years, thought we’d be able to afford; Gill and Andy, my best friends – and this perfect day. I take a deep breath and feel my shoulders relax. I can smell the faintest trace of heather, drifting down from the moor.

~ Sanjida Kay

The moor has always been part of my life. It’s like a muse: the colours of the heather and the sky; how you can see the savagery of the wind in the way the dwarf pine trees are bent double, the bleak lines of the landscape in winter when everything save the moss and the grass are dead, stones like bones, poking through a thin skin of bilberry bushes, rushes reflected in black bog water.

~ Sanjida Kay

Hello my darling, I’m your real father. I’ve been searching for you ever since you were stolen from me. I love you so much. Daddy

~ Sanjida Kay

It’s quiet in the suburbs. It’s too cold for people to be in their gardens; and it’s not a thoroughfare so few cars drive by. I look past decaying roses and through the first flush of Michelmas daisies, blazing a glorious purple, into the darkened windows of the houses we walk by. Who lives here? Are they watching us? Did one of our neighbours do something seven years ago that he now regrets? How little we know of the people who surround us.

~ Sanjida Kay

The dark edge of the moor and the Cow and Calf rock are crisp against the blue-black sky. I can’t see anyone outside, watching us. As I shut the door behind me, I hear a noise. It came from the hall. I feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck.

~ Sanjida Kay

I think about the story I always tell her – of the kind lady who gave her to us. I suppose that must be how she imagines her father – as a kind man who gave her away too, as if she were a gift. Only now he wants her back.

~ Sanjida Kay

He places the skull in the palm of my hand. There are four canines; the top two are so long and curved I can feel them pricking my skin. There’s a green tinge round the eye socket and in a fine line across the cranium. I’m not sure what animal it’s from. ‘Stoat,’ Harris says, as if I’ve spoken out loud. ‘They hunt grouse and partridge. I found it behind my house. I buried the body in the furze until it was just bone.’ His hand is still beneath mine, supporting it. I think of him seeing the small dead creature and digging a tiny grave for it. Planning ahead for all those months just so he’d see the skeleton. Or maybe he severed the animal’s head and that was the only part he buried. ‘It’s been waiting for you all this time. Like I have.

~ Sanjida Kay

The young woman's perfect breast didn't yield beneath the gentle pressure of two latexed fingers.What're you doing? Professor Robert 'Lithium Bob' Beck frowned at me.I don't know. It's what I did when I first saw her…Why? asked Doc Donald, about to assist with the post mortem.She seemed so… pink. Maybe to see if she was alive… I saw the Prof and the Doc exchange a look. It was an unconventional - no, plain weird - place to touch her.

~ Morana Blue

Other girls play with soft toys,” I said, “and you play with knives…

~ Jess C. Scott

The concrete floor beneath the airbed was hard and uncompromising, digging into her back and making it difficult to breathe. The stale air reeked of disinfectant and shit. And something else that she couldn't quite place. Death, perhaps?

~ Mark Tilbury

Since her diagnoses she has been fading like a light bulb with cancer’s hand on the rotary dimmer.

~ Danielle Esplin

I was taught to deceive by a great deceiver. Jenny will embrace me as a good man. Just as you did...before tonight.

~ Ken Cruickshank

Whatever you’re not telling me, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.

~ Ken Cruickshank

Smiles were rare in this house. Smiles had to be bought and paid for.

~ Caroline Mitchell