Quotes About Gothic

I was halfway through writing a gothic, country house mystery when, out of the blue, I received an email inviting me to audition for the ITV show, 'Popstar To Operastar.'

My wife and I battle over home decor. My style goes from Gothic to Baroque. Hers is minimalist.

Do what he might, however, his thoughts WOULD wander back to the great gothic gulf into which he had been pouring out his soul, and the greater human gulfs that opened into the ancient pile, whose mouths were the faces that hid the floor beneath them—until at length he was altogether vexed with himself for being interested in what he had done, instead of absorbed in what he had yet to do.

Tim Burton's 'Sleepy Hollow' has got to be the most gorgeous, sumptuous, painterly movie ever made about multiple decapitations.

This is perhaps the most important element of any good Gothic horror story. Without it, what do you have? A shitty old dump with a dark history no one remembers or cares about. You need that one person who ensures that the evil lives on.

Edinburgh is a sort of gothic fairytale city, and it can be a gothic horror city as well.

God, I'm trapped in a Southern gothic novel." "You asked for it." She finishes off her martini in a gulp. "I hope nobody's going to ask me to squeal like a pig.

But if you read Jane Austen, you know that she had a wicked sense of humor. Not only was she funny, but her early writing was very dark and had a gothic tone to it.

Never fear, protecting my womb from Gothic novels is my first priority.

I was pretty partial to Kerouac and I also liked Flannery O'Connor and the Southern Gothic writing and local writers, like Jesse Stewart. They became an inspiration for how I wanted my writing voice to be.

He loved a book because it was a book; he loved its odor, its form, its title. What he loved in a manuscript was its old illegible date, the bizarre and strange Gothic characters, the heavy gilding which loaded its drawings. It was its pages covered with dust — dust of which he breathed the sweet and tender perfume with delight.

The priest was dead. Nevertheless, he sat at table with us as we feasted on cold meats.

Quite alone both as a novel and as a piece of terror-literature stands the famous Wuthering Heights (1847) by Emily Brontë

Possibly Gilman ought not to have studied so hard. Non-Euclidean calculus and quantum physics are enough to stretch any brain; and when one mixes them with folklore, and tries to trace a strange background of multi-dimensional reality behind the ghoulish hints of the Gothic tales and the wild whispers of the chimney-corner, one can hardly expect to be wholly free from mental tension.

Light indeed glowed on the panels ahead, but it was not any light that the moon gives. Terrible and piercing was the shaft of ruddy refulgence that streamed through the Gothic window, and the whole chamber was brilliant with a splendour intense and unearthly.

the book typographer's job was building a window between the reader inside a room and that landscape which is the author's words. He may put up a stained glass window of marvelous beauty, but a failure as a window; that is he may use some rich superb type like text gothic that is something to be look at, not through.

I love the description of Gothic churches before the printed word, that they were the bibles of the poor.

gothic nightmares.

The cabin in the woods is to the American Gothic what the haunted castle is to the European - the seed from which everything else ultimately grows.

before he died Francis' father had ordered that the gutters and gargoyles be painted gold, and the innovation had enabled the house to achieve a new and unbelievable pitch of vulgarity. I am incapable of further description; all I can add is that Greek ideas had married Gothic affectations in the architectural plans, and the marriage had not been a happy one.

With his long hair as ragged as rain and as black as thunder, he would have looked quite at home upon a windswept moor, or lurking in some pitch-black alleyway, or perhaps in a novel by Mrs. Radcliffe.

Over all this the schloss shows its many-windowed front; its towers, and its Gothic chapel.

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

It's a parallel world. It's a gothic forest. It's a bluish valley. It's a deep gorge. It's a déjà vu. It's a sleeping town. It's an old neighborhood. It's a familiar house. You go up the stairs of your future. You discover the source of your past. Your present is hidden behind a secret door. Your space is reflected in the windows. You find a chess game in the attic. The formula of your happiness is decrypted. A voice whispers your name: you recreate your identity.