Gothic Fiction 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

“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

“No, I will not join your Civil War reenactment troupe.”
― Aaron A. A. Smith, Siren's Lament and Other Stories

“For the sake of your bright eyes, Jem Merlyn.”
― Daphne du Maurier, Jamaica Inn

“Lady Dunreath, in the meantime, suffered torture; after she had seen Malvina turned from the abbey, she returned to her apartment; it was furnished with the most luxurious elegance, yet she could not rest within it. Conscience already told her, if Malvina died, she must consider herself her murderer: her pale and woe-worn image seemed still before her: a cold terror oppressed her heart, which the terrors of the night augmented. The tempest shook the battlements of the abbey; and the wind howled through the galleries, like the moan of some wandering spirit of the pile, bewailing the fate of one of its fairest daughters.”
― Regina Maria Roche, The Children of the Abbey

“...Leaning on her maid, she stole through the winding galleries, and lightly descending the stairs, entered the long hall, which terminated in a dark arched passage that opened into the chapel. This was a wild and gloomy structure: beneath it were the vaults which contained the ancestors of the earl of Dunreath, whose deeds and titles were enumerated on gothic monuments: their dust-covered banners waving around in sullen dignity to the rude gale, which found admittance through the broken windows. The light which the maid held produced deep shadows, that heightened the solemnity of the place.”
― Regina Maria Roche, The Children of the Abbey

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

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“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“Immortality is not a gift. It is the longest form of punishment.”
― P.E.N. Bortolotti

“If a tree fell alone in the woods and no one was around to hear it, did it really make a sound?
She was certain, then, that her scream went unheard.”
― Ashton Morgan, De Novo

“Cecilia came whirling back into his chest, his eyes catching her own. They were a strange silver, a colour like smoke, the only trail that proves the heat of the flame. His eyes held no malice, nor fury, the only fervor a desire she couldn’t place.”
― Ashton Morgan, De Novo

“Algo que não pode ser tão facilmente erradicado é, talvez, o maior dos medos vitorianos: o de que ao procurar pelo reflexo do vampiro, esse Outro, no espelho, irás encontrá-lo rastejando dentro de ti.”
― Thiago Sardenberg, O Vampiro à Sombra do Mal: A Fluidez do Lugar da Figura Mítica na Literatura

“O lócus que tradicionalmente habita o vampiro, essencialmente noturno, também perpassa o desconhecido: não tememos a escuridão apenas devido à falta de estímulos visuais que nos priva da percepção de possíveis ameaças, mas também porque ela dá vida e amplifica nossos próprios medos, concretizando no invisível aquilo que nos perturba no íntimo.
Assim, se a noite é esse “espaço-tempo em que o terror se sente à vontade”, os terrores que nas sombras me alucinam poderão ser vastamente distintos dos teus, mesmo que juntos a desbravemos.”
― Thiago Sardenberg, À Noite não Restariam Rosas: A Ameaça Epidêmica em Narrativas Vampirescas

“Impregnadas nas diferentes ameaças epidêmicas impostas pelos vampiros, estão inquietações que perpassam esse olhar crítico para as escolhas que nós, humanos, estamos continuamente fazendo. Se o vampiro ficcional, esse monstro que tanto nos revela e adverte sobre nós mesmos, insiste de maneira tão enfática no viés pandêmico-apocalíptico na contemporaneidade, talvez seja pelo inconveniente fato de que se torna cada vez mais evidente que “o surto mais grave no planeta Terra é o da espécie Homo sapiens” e que, caso continuemos a fazer as mesmas escolhas equivocadas, teremos que lidar com a o fato de que “eis a verdade em relação aos surtos: eles acabam”.”
― Thiago Sardenberg, À Noite não Restariam Rosas: A Ameaça Epidêmica em Narrativas Vampirescas

“Narrativas como Apocalipse V e The Passage evidenciam o papel da humanidade na perturbação e desintegração de ecossistemas, fatores que acabam por favorecer a criação de cenários pandêmicos, no que somos expostos a novos patógenos que se encontravam placidamente contidos, e que podem ser responsáveis pela emergência (ou reemergência) de doenças infecciosas potencialmente perigosas.”
― Thiago Sardenberg, À Noite não Restariam Rosas: A Ameaça Epidêmica em Narrativas Vampirescas

“Nas artes, afinal, o vampirismo é como que endêmico — os surtos que retratam aparecem e então se tornam latentes por tempo indeterminado; quando os esquecemos ou julgamos tê-los superado, eis que reaparecem, seus monstros-vampiros funcionando como personificações de uma nova “variante” bem preparada para desarmar as defesas que construímos.”
― Thiago Sardenberg, À Noite não Restariam Rosas: A Ameaça Epidêmica em Narrativas Vampirescas

“Woolens to wash await Eliza, while Eliza awaits her next thought, a thought which pleases her by being three trees taunting, two, two tombs tattling, one for her and one for me, walking harvest-wise across the bridge.
(Aulisyn: A Gothic Sci-Fi Novel)”
― erzsebet carmean

“I raise my forlorn heart, Eliza thinks, to know the bounty of food at Bellumfort and understand the long months of winter grief on the demesne are preventable.”
― Erzsebet Carmean, Aulisyn A Gothic Sci-Fi Novel

“Woolens to wash await Eliza, while Eliza awaits her next thought, a thought which pleases her by being three trees taunting, two, two tombs tattling, one for her and one for me, walking harvest-wise across the bridge.”
― Erzsebet Carmean, Aulisyn A Gothic Sci-Fi Novel

“Then there was darkness. The light from the oil lamp had gone off. She wasn't in the tub anymore. She had been wrapped in a thin cloth that impeded her movement, but she managed to pull it apart, to slide it away, and it slipped from her shoulders as neatly as the membrane she'd observed.

Wood. She could smell damp earth and wood, and when she raised a hand her knuckles hit hard surface and a splinter cut her skin.

Coffin. It was a coffin. The cloth was a shroud.”
― Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic

“An odd sensation rushed through her body. Her head grew light, and a peculiar pleasure imbued her mind. In the demon’s eyes a promise was held. Her days had been filled with misfortune; enduring adversity had made her tired. The lure was too enticing, and she followed. - Ch 2 The Darkness of Judith”
― Helen Mihajlovic

“This glass was a gift from the Watchers, Faustine. Real angels sent from heaven. A long time ago one of them fell in love with a mortal, and this glass was their first blessing. Glass that sings.

-Seraphine, Singing For Starblood”
― Emma lou , Singing For Starblood

“The library at Hellebore, however, was different. Appendage to the main campus, it acted only in the faculty's interest, which seemed to revolve exclusively around fucking us students over.”
― Cassandra Khaw, The Library at Hellebore

“The Basement Morgue by Stewart Stafford

A reluctant errand to a basement morgue,
No mortal knew what things lurked there,
The elevator shuddered to a halt, opening,
To a scattered boneyard of patient beds.

Totem tchotchkes of a broken system,
Dead corridors stretched left and right,
A charged cold-sweat silence hung,
As a flaccid desk stethoscope rattled.

Buried my nose in my clipboard;
Had to find their machine - now!
A gurney wheeled itself past me,
Disappearing into an anteroom.

A hanging skeleton lunged at me—
Spindly fingers choked me into blackness.
Rousing to bright lights, blinding me;
Icy steel drawers swallowed my screams.

© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“A dark Southern Gothic tale of forbidden desire and supernatural vengeance. Within the cursed halls of Chesterson Manor, love turns deadly, and ghosts of the past hunger for redemption.”
― Thomas Miller, The Deadly Lust Of Chesterson Manor : A Story Of Lust Love And Death

“Silence did not mean safety. It only meant no one was listening.”
― Kimberly K. Taylor

“People starve in different ways, dear. Just as the kid binges on food, people will binge on kindness.”
— Radiel, Abaddon”
― Paulina Allende Miranda, Abaddon

“It was never a story.
Only a collection of remains.”
― Dario Fero, For ever and a day: The shadow side of immortality

“Good-night, then, sir," said I, departing.

He seemed surprised—very inconsistently so, as he had just told me to go.

"What!" he exclaimed, "are you quitting me already, and in that way?"

"You said I might go, sir."

"But not without taking leave; not without a word or two of acknowledgment and good-will: not, in short, in that brief, dry fashion. Why, you have saved my life!—snatched me from a horrible and excruciating death! and you walk past me as if we were mutual strangers! At least shake hands.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre