Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3 Quotes

“Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3

“There is no delight the equal of dread”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3

“So now, I look at these stories, and almost like a photograph snapped at a party, I find all manner of signs and indications of who I was. Was? Yes, was. I look at these pieces and I don't think the man who wrote them is alive in me anymore. Writing an introduction to the tenth anniversary edition of Weaveworld last year I remarked on much of the same thing: the man who'd written that book was no longer around. He'd died in me, was buried in me. We are our own graveyards; we squat amongst the tombs of the people we were. If we're healthy, every day is a celebration, a Day of the Dead, in which we give thanks for the lives that we lived, and if we're neurotic we brood and mourn and wish that the past was still present.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3

“(...) An amalgam of sexual excess and demonic elegance, as likely to fuck you as tear out your heart.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3

“Does the beef salute the butcher as it throbs to it's knees?”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3

“This is a forsaken place...I can think of no use for a place like this, except that you could say of it: I saw the heart of nothing, and survived.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3

“Every body is a book of blood; Whenever we're opened, we're red.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood, Vols. 1-3