Not so much a list as totally sunk
English language movies they may be in that "top 10" but that language certainly doesn't figure in whatever rationale prompted those choices: the word "suspense" seems to be beyond the ken of the hit pickers.
Neither Spielberg nor anyone else with a functioning brain cell would regard "Jaws" as a horror flick: it was an exercise in suspense, a natural progression from that same director's TV-to-theatrical release "Duel". Hitchcock similarly would never grubby his hands with "horror": "Psycho" is there to scare an audience witless -- which it did. Not "horrify" them.
Interesting to see Carpenter featuring as both a list-maker and list nominee, for if ever an early talent was sadly dissipated it's his: "Assault on Precinct 13" is still one of the best "suspense" movies ever made, and still one of the best-scored (by Carpenter.) By contrast, "The Thing" is a nauseating over-the-top indulgence.
Of course, being nauseated by a movie is what so many seem to think "horror" is all about, but if that's the case then this list misses by a mile: "I Spit On Your Grave" and "Driller Killer" are as nauseating (in the most literal sense) as it gets, even though both are actually directed with skill and intelligence and are original in their own right -- unlike the past 35 years of me-too slasher and schlock films which seem to have been (a) made by psychotics for (b) the entertainment of other psychotics.
The list fails entirely to define what it actually means -- "horror": what is it anyway? -- so is worthless. And even including "Wicker Man" wouldn't change things: "Wicker Man" is suspense, not horror, as well as being a wonderfully whacky celebration of the era in which it was made.
As to what might more appropriately have figured on that list -- that is, movies which build suspense to scare (tell-not-show: implicit) and then go on to horrify (show-and-tell: explicit) --then likely nominees like "Late Night Trains" are a world away from all that big-budget commercial fodder the list-makers seem so predictably obsessed with (well, with one notable exception: Ken Russell's "The Devils" is as repellently horrific an entertainment now as it was on first release.)