Gothic Romance Quotes

“I envy people that know love. That have someone who takes them as they are.”
― Jess C Scott, The Devilin Fey

“One hand was behind his back, and he held it out, presenting a bouquet of white and smoky purple lilies.

“They’re straight from the underworld, by the way. They are everlasting. They won’t die.”
― Jess C Scott, The Devilin Fey

“Oh, he did look like a deity – the perfect balance of danger and charm, he was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of his demonstrated flawlessness, and possessing such strength of character that he was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way.”
― Simona Panova, Nightmarish Sacrifice

“Everybody is equally weak on the inside, just that some present their ruins as new castles and become kings –”
― Simona Panova, Nightmarish Sacrifice

“Mine first --mine last-- mine even in the grave!”
― Louisa May Alcott

“You Just scared me half to death," I said.

"You should be thrilled you're halfway there.”
― Rae Hachton, Pretty In Black

“She says it is a school for bluestockings which, according to her, is really only a fashionable way of saying it is a school for ugly girls who cannot find suitable husbands. To tease her, for I believe it is one of his greatest pleasures in this life, my father bought a pair of blue silk stockings for me the day we received my letter of acceptance. That evening and the next, father and I dined alone.”
― Gwenn Wright, The BlueStocking Girl

“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, Black Satin

“...perhaps we only notice things when the time comes for us to pay attention to them. When they need us to see them…”
― Nancy Holder, Crimson Peak: The Official Movie Novelization

“When her mind was discomposed... a book was the opiate that lulled it to repose.”
― Ann Radcliffe, The Romance of the Forest

“It seemed to me that Mr. Forrester would approve of a woman who could follow him in conversation and not be baffled by ledgers and currency conversions. I had grossly overestimated him.”
― Gwenn Wright, The BlueStocking Girl

“Some rumors said she was a demon from another world. Other rumors said she was death incarnate, someone to remind us of our misdeeds. But no one had said how beautiful she was. No one had mentioned her eyes. The ones that showed color only for a second. A hint of beauty in absolute blackness.”
― Shannon A. Thompson, July Thunder

“Vijaya prefers to eat alone. Rob ushered her into the room and held a chair for her, then sat across from her. "Many Indians regard eating as something that should be done in private. Considering the table manners of some of our best people, one can see their point."

Patricia Frances Rowell”
― Patricia Frances Rowell

“But there is nothing, no trace that she’s ever existed. She is not here. She will never be here again.
Because of me.”
― Christine Fonseca, Libera Me

“Another tug and a yank at my chestnut curls and she snarls at me, “You are so much like her.”
This is something my mother often says and never explains. Though it is a great mystery to me it is also a blessing, for she always hurries from the room after saying it.”
― Gwenn Wright, The BlueStocking Girl

“Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.”
― Bram Stoker, Dracula

“He smirked. “Decision time, pretty lady... back to reality?”
She touched his cheek. “Or down the rabbit hole?”
― Jake Vander-Ark, Fallout Dreams

“She wanted me to love her... and stranger still, i wanted to love and be loved by her. Death had become romantic again.”
― J.D. Clair

“Do not fear the ghosts in this house; they are the least of your worries.
Personally I find the noises they make reassuring.
The creaks and footsteps in the night,
their little tricks of hiding things, or moving them, I find endearing, not upsettling. It makes the place
feel so much more like a home.
Inhabited.
Apart from ghosts nothing lives here for long. No cats no mice, no flies, no dreams, no bats. Two days ago I saw a butterfly, a monarch I believe, which danced from room to room and perched on walls and waited near to me.
There are no flowers in this empty place, and, scared the butterfly would starve, I forced a window wide, cupped my two hands around her fluttering self,
feeling her wings kiss my palms so gentle,
and put her out, and watched her fly away.

I've little patience with the seasons here, but
your arrival eased this winter's chill.
Please, wander round. Explore it all you wish.
I've broken with tradition on some points. If there is
one locked room here, you'll never know. You'll not find in the cellar's fireplace old bones or hair. You'll find no blood.
Regard:
just tools, a washing-machine, a drier, a water-heater, and a chain of keys.
Nothing that can alarm you. Nothing dark.

I may be grim, perhaps, but only just as grim as any man who suffered such affairs. Misfortune,
carelessness or pain, what matters is the loss. You'll see the heartbreak linger in my eyes, and dream
of making me forget what came before you walked
into the hallway of this house. Bringing a little summer in your glance, and with your smile.

While you are here, of course, you will hear the ghosts, always a room away,
and you may wake beside me in the night,
knowing that there's a space without a door,
knowing that there's a place that's locked but isn't there. Hearing them scuffle, echo, thump and pound.

If you are wise you'll run into the night, fluttering away into the cold,
wearing perhaps the laciest of shifts. The lane's hard flints will cut your feet all bloody as you run,
so, if I wished, I could just follow you,
tasting the blood and oceans of your tears. I'll wait instead, here in my private place, and soon I'll put a candle in the window, love, to light your way back home.
The world flutters like insects. I think this is how I shall
remember you,
my head between the white swell of your breasts,
listening to the chambers of your heart.”
― Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders

“Matthew shook his head. “Whoever said anything of women in the Victorian era being prim and proper apparently hadn’t met Maxine Fleming.”
Tahatan chuckled. “I’m sure a publisher somewhere would make a nice fortune with putting this into print. The fact is, people tend to look back on bygone times through rose-colored glasses. All eras have encouraged values that are pushed on the surface, but in the end, people are still people.”
― Tiffany Apan, Descent

“Vampires have the ability to control the mind of their prey." - Damian Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood”
― Alexa Wayne, Mrs. Blackwood

“The vampire that I am doesn't stop at my fangs." - Damian Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood”
― Alexa Wayne, Mrs. Blackwood

“I don’t know if I want to be free anymore.” said Coralie in a whisper, “Good, because I don’t know if I wish you to be.” - Damian Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood”
― Alexa Wayne, Mrs. Blackwood

“The fly that should be dead and the dog that should be dead in the house that should be dead, and the bride, who would be dead soon.
It watched approvingly, appreciating the complexities—and fragilities—of life.”
― Nancy Holder, Crimson Peak: The Official Movie Novelization

“If one night you ask for my permission to release you so you will be forever free from me, know that I’ll also have the freedom to leave you and never come back.” - Damian Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood”
― Alexa Wayne, Mrs. Blackwood

“Silver bullets and a stake in the heart
But the cross still awakens my heart
I'm the freak of nature that's all
Darling it's not the way that you are”
― Criss Jami, Salomé: In Every Inch In Every Mile

“His nose was almost too long, but not quite. It was almost bent, but not quite. The jaw was almost crooked, but just missed.
This was the face that love wore.”
― Helen Arvonen, Whistle at my window

“Surely it was the shock of all I’d learned, the danger his conclusions indicated, but as I returned his smile, a bit of warmth filled my cheeks. There was something awfully pleasant about his dark features and wild hair, which begged to be touched.”
― Abigail Wilson, Midnight on the River Grey

“I marched along the familiar paths, hoping a fast stride would keep me warm. Part of me was enjoying the peaceful scenery while the other part pondered my newly altered circumstances. I never wallow in self-pity, for there is nothing to be gained by such indulgences, but I confess to feeling just a bit irritated.
“If only I’d had the good fortune to be a widow!” I muttered to myself crossly, kicking at a pebble in my path. Instead of a divorcée, that is to say. Quelle différence! My present circumstances would be much improved by my having lost my husband in some war, rather than by the shocking action of booting him from my life. It isn’t fair, but there we are.”
― Wendy Coles-Littlepage, Disfigured

“He would stare down at us in our new world from a long-distant past--a past where men walked cloaked at night, and stood in the shadow of old doorways, a past of narrow stairways and dim dungeons, a past of whispers in the dark, of shimmering rapier blades, of silent, exquisite courtesy.”
― Daphe du Maurier