#got

Dying would be normal for me, and one day, I'd be buried beneath a stone, and nothing would matter anymore. It'd be ordinary, like life. And that terrified me, endlessly. ↗

— Rae Hachton

#ellie-piper #gothic-romance #pretty-in-black-series #rae-hachton #young-adult-series

Der Glaube an Gott ist ein Sichöffnen, ein Loslassen, ein tiefes Vertrauen, eine bedingungslose Liebe – aber manchmal war es so schwer zu lieben. Manchmal sank mein Herz vor Wut, Verzagtheit und Erschöpfung so tief, dass ich befürchtete, es würde bis ganz hinab auf den Grund des Pazifiks sinken und ich würde es nie wieder heraufziehen können. In solchen Augenblicken versuchte ich mir Mut zu machen. Ich fasste mir an den Turban, den ich mir aus den Überresten meines Hemds gewunden hatte und rief: „DAS IST GOTTES HUT!“ Ich fuhr mir über meine Hosen und rief: „DAS SIND GOTTES KLEIDER!“ Ich wies auf Richard Parker und rief: „DAS IST GOTTES KATZE!“ Ich wies auf das Rettungsboot und rief: „DAS IST GOTTES ARCHE!“ Ich breitete meine Arme weit und rief: „DAS SIND DIE GÖTTLICHEN GEFILDE!“ Ich hob den Finger zum Himmel und rief: „DAS IST GOTTES OHR!“ Auf diese Weise rief ich mir ins Gedächtnis, was die Schöpfung war und wo ich meinen Platz darin hatte. ↗

— Yann Martel

#life #life

He had golden-brown hair, the most vivid baby-blue eyes, and a body that belonged on the cover of Men’s Health magazine. Her gaze roamed over his broad shoulders and down his chest. ↗

— Lia Davis

#hero #magic #paranormal-romance #witches #men

She slips into the seat at our table, refusing to look up at me. I reach for her hand, sending a shiver through me when our finger tips touch. She glances at me, her eyes filled with a feral fear that reaches into my depths, pulling on emotions I refuse to acknowledge. Things I can’t feel now. Won’t feel ever again. ↗

— Christine Fonseca

#gothic-romance #ya #love

And Mother, I love her dearly, but she flies into a panic whenever I mention women’s rights. As she sees it, it will be so much more difficult to marry me off if I am not only of a weak constitution but of a progressive mind as well. ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#gwenn-wright #katherine-demure #love-story #strong-heroine #suffrage

I'd love for readers to read what books are about so that if they are expecting happy endings in dark horror novels, they won't reach for the Vallium or something worse! ↗

— Carole Gill

#dark-gothic-horror-novel #readers #love

No, mother; no. She was really keen on Italy. This travel is quite a crisis for her.” He found the situation full of whimsical romance: there was something half attractive, half repellent in the thought of this vulgar woman journeying to places he loved and revered. Why should she not be transfigured? The same had happened to the Goths. ↗

— E.M. Forster

#italy #love

If I didn't laugh, I'd rip out my hair, one graying strand at a time. ↗

— Elsie Love

#you-gotta-laugh #love

... but now men who could work preferred to beg, and the artists forgot that their calling was noble and became imitators instead of creators, charging exorbitant sums for the rubbish they churned out with one eye closed. ↗

— Pauline Gedge

#beg #creators #forgot #imitators #rubbish

Call it what you like: The Upper Sky, the Unmade, even the Empyrean. Men have given it so many names over the course of history. But those names don't really matter, in the end. It's the unchanging matter. A place without qualities. Neither hot nor cold, wet nor dry. The aether remains while all else shifts and fades...The aether is the opposite of creation. It's always there, invisible but burning bright. It's the pale web that holds the universe together. ↗

— Adam McOmber

#gothic-fiction #the-white-forest #men