We could hang around for ten years and nobody would care enough to identify us. Therein lies the horror.

Ten years ago, in 94, we thought maybe nobody would ever care about Styx again.

There are a couple of things in there if we're constraining this discussion to horror here.

When I was running 'round in America, about 30 years old, I didn't want no woman. I knowed I could make enough money to take care of myself, but I didn't want nobody to take care of.

Not mature or enough to stick around but I'm mature enough to realize that and not waste time trying

She had come into the garden expecting summer roses and had instead been caught in a bank of twisted, thorny, frostbitten vines.