#gothic

I never really wanted to die. But I followed through anyway. The pain in my heart was excruciating, and death was beautiful. ↗

— Rae Hachton

#death-and-dying #first-lines #gothic-fantasy #gothic-romance #love

At its heart, Gothic Fiction is the introvert's "Hero's Journey" where heroes and heroines must navigate the uncharted territory of the mind in order to solve the mystery of their life's adventure. ↗

— Barrymore Tebbs

#gothic-horror #psychological-gothic #life

Tu te plais à me voir, sombre et désespéré, / Errer dans mon amour comme en un cimetière! ↗

— Émile Nelligan

#love #love

I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing. ↗

— Emily Brontë

#heathcliff #destruction

The questions push me further into the space in between, the place where my madness lays waiting for me. I struggle with each question, determined to extract some sort of answer, an explanation for everything that has happened so far. But no answers come and I’m forced to acknowledge the feeling lodged between my two worlds Terror. ↗

— Christine Fonseca

#horror #psychological-thriller #ya #thriller

You Just scared me half to death," I said. "You should be thrilled you're halfway there. ↗

— Rae Hachton

#gothic-romance #marcus-marble #pretty-in-black #rae-hachton #young-adult-series

I hate the word gothic but I would like to try doing something like that. A gothic sound, not rock, but gothic. There's a difference. ↗

— Kelly Osbourne

#doing #gothic #hate #i #like

Junior high is so much worse than high school because at least in high school different is more accepted, celebrated actually: all the girls with blue hair and gothic Hello Kitty backpacks. ↗

— Nikki Reed

#actually #because #blue #celebrated #different

So I may not have had a gothic childhood, but childhood makes its own gothicity. ↗

— George Saunders

#gothic #had #i #i may not #makes

Gormenghast. Withdrawn and ruinous it broods in umbra: the immemorial masonry: the towers, the tracts. Is all corroding? No. Through an avenue of spires a zephyr floats; a bird whistles; a freshet beats away from a choked river. Deep in a fist of stone a doll's hand wriggles, warm rebellious on the frozen palm. A shadow shifts its length. A spider stirs... And darkness winds between the characters. - Gormenghast ↗

— Mervyn Peake

#classic #gormenghast #gothic #literature #art