Top Gothic Quotes

His room was a sickly dual-tone of crimson and charcoal, like an Untitled Rothko, the colours bleeding into each other horribly and then rather serenely. The overall effect was overwhelmingly unapolog…

Moonshine Noire

Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lost

Nathan Reese Maher

Behind the words

A new way to see gothic.

Different voices, different experiences, a shared theme. Take a moment to find the words that resonate with you.

A moment to reflect

Which idea here would you like to carry into your day?

Find my next quote See the top 10 gothic quotes

The meaning of gothic

(a.) Pertaining to the Goths; as, Gothic customs; also, rude; barbarous.

(a.) Of or pertaining to a style of architecture with pointed arches, steep roofs, windows large in proportion to the wall spaces, and, generally, great height in proportion to the other dimensions -- prevalent in Western Europe from about 1200 to 1475 a. d. See Illust. of Abacus, and Capital.

(n.) The language of the Goths; especially, the language of that part of the Visigoths who settled in Moesia in the 4th century. See Goth.

(n.) A kind of square-cut type, with no hair lines.

(n.) The style described in Gothic, a., 2.

Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lostmemories? Then are we not each dreamers of tomorrow and yesterday, since dreamsplay when time is askew? Are we not all adrift in the…

Nathan Reese Maher

All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city's monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.

Nathan Reese Maher

I rouse Emily to our guests, as she finishes off our fifteenth snowman by setting the head atop its torso. She stands limp at my direction, pointing out the coming shadows and I cannot help but hear a…

Nathan Reese Maher

Honestly, I'd rather be anywhere else. Even home, where my dad begins almost every conversation with, "You should lose the black clothes and wear something with color." Puh-lease. Like I want to look…

Gena Showalter

I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and part…

Nathan Reese Maher

History doesn’t start with a tall building

Nathan Reese Maher

I spend my nights thinking the worstAnd telling myself that everything's going to work outI keep kicking myself in the mouthOpening up every cut that should be a scar by now

Real Friends

That’s a stupid name! Whirly-gig is much better, I think. Who in their rightmind would point at this thing and say, ‘I’m going to fly in my Model-A1’.

Nathan Reese Maher

This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat;…

Mervyn Peake

Did Bach ever eatpancakes at midnight?

Nathan Reese Maher

And the castle in which she dwelt was a prison to her; and sometimes sudden fits of gusty passion would overtake her, for weariness grew to hate, and hate to wrath,"The Serpent's Head

Lady Dilke

Inevitably, his vision verged toward the fantastic; he published a scattering of stories - most included in this volume - which appeared to conform to that genre at least to the degree that the fuller…

Barry N. Malzberg

Already she knew that an idea could pain him like a bruise. He had grey eyes that showed every thought, and sometimes Charlotte worried that he might be hurt in some way that she would not be able to…

Lauren Owen

Where there is mystery, it is generally supposed there must be evil.

George Gordon Byron

Then the wind came in with Bart and blew the vase of roses from the table. I stood and stared down at the crystal pieces and the petals scattered about. Why was the wind always trying to tell me somet…

V.C. Andrews

Top Gothic Quotes

His room was a sickly dual-tone of crimson and charcoal, like an Untitled Rothko, the colours bleeding into each other horribly and then rather serenely. The overall effect was overwhelmingly unapolog…

Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lost

Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.

There is a stillness between us, a period of restlessness that ties my stomach

She leaves my side and heads deeper into

Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lostmemories? Then are we not each dreamers of tomorrow and yesterday, since dreamsplay when time is askew? Are we not all adrift in the…

All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city's monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.

I rouse Emily to our guests, as she finishes off our fifteenth snowman by setting the head atop its torso. She stands limp at my direction, pointing out the coming shadows and I cannot help but hear a…

Honestly, I'd rather be anywhere else. Even home, where my dad begins almost every conversation with, "You should lose the black clothes and wear something with color." Puh-lease. Like I want to look…

I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and part…

History doesn’t start with a tall building

I spend my nights thinking the worstAnd telling myself that everything's going to work outI keep kicking myself in the mouthOpening up every cut that should be a scar by now

That’s a stupid name! Whirly-gig is much better, I think. Who in their rightmind would point at this thing and say, ‘I’m going to fly in my Model-A1’.

This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat;…

Did Bach ever eatpancakes at midnight?

And the castle in which she dwelt was a prison to her; and sometimes sudden fits of gusty passion would overtake her, for weariness grew to hate, and hate to wrath,"The Serpent's Head

Inevitably, his vision verged toward the fantastic; he published a scattering of stories - most included in this volume - which appeared to conform to that genre at least to the degree that the fuller…

Already she knew that an idea could pain him like a bruise. He had grey eyes that showed every thought, and sometimes Charlotte worried that he might be hurt in some way that she would not be able to…

Where there is mystery, it is generally supposed there must be evil.

Then the wind came in with Bart and blew the vase of roses from the table. I stood and stared down at the crystal pieces and the petals scattered about. Why was the wind always trying to tell me somet…