Instalar Steam
iniciar sesión
|
idioma
简体中文 (Chino simplificado)
繁體中文 (Chino tradicional)
日本語 (Japonés)
한국어 (Coreano)
ไทย (Tailandés)
български (Búlgaro)
Čeština (Checo)
Dansk (Danés)
Deutsch (Alemán)
English (Inglés)
Español - España
Ελληνικά (Griego)
Français (Francés)
Italiano
Bahasa Indonesia (indonesio)
Magyar (Húngaro)
Nederlands (Holandés)
Norsk (Noruego)
Polski (Polaco)
Português (Portugués de Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portugués - Brasil)
Română (Rumano)
Русский (Ruso)
Suomi (Finés)
Svenska (Sueco)
Türkçe (Turco)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamita)
Українська (Ucraniano)
Informar de un error de traducción
Moskovskiy, Moskva, Russian Federation 
A: A corpse.
😲
A New York City judge ruled that if two women behind you at the
movies insist on discussing the probable outcome of the film, you have the
right to turn around and blow a Bronx cheer at them.
😵
Once you go Norris, you are physically unable to go back.
🙂
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.
-- Shirley Jackson, "The Haunting of Hill House"
😴