"You must forget everything about Hill House. I was so wrong to bring you here," he said.
"How long have we been here?" Eleanor asked suddenly.
"A little over a week. Why?"
"It's the only time anything's ever happened to me. I liked it."
"That," said the doctor, "is why you are leaving in such a hurry."
"Fear," the doctor said, "is the relinquishment of logic, the willing relinquishing of reasonable patterns. We yield to it or we fight it, but we cannot meet it halfway."
No ghost in all the long histories of ghosts has ever hurt anyone physically. The only damage done is by the victim to himself.
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.
Herkesin dönüp gitme hakkı vardır
...bu dünyada istediğim tek şey huzur. Uzanıp düşünebileceğim, çiçeklerin arasında yatıp hayal kurabileceğim ve kendime tatlı masallar anlatabileceğim sakin bir yer.