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Dark Academia Quotes

Browse 225 quotes about Dark Academia.

Dark Academia Quotes

“A HOTEL ROOM IN PARIS #31 At the bottom of the lonely window,
The sky looks almost velvety lilac. While at the top, the window frame
Seems to drown in front of an ocean of blue satin. White window frames in uneven walls
Cast no shadow, so the light projects the soul of each traveller instead. So I sit here in silence, filtering out the noise
That the boulevards inhabit and sing each day. Only the music I keep in my room, the silent solitude each one carries;
Carries far and – may I hope – home soon.”

PoetrySolitudeParisLiterary FictionRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudeTravel Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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“I still feel ghosts around me: the ghosts of the five Dalloway girls who defied the boxes and coffins the world tried to put them in. The ghosts of other women who attended or worked at this school, but whose legacies were forgotten instead of deified. The ghosts of every girl who came here and felt history beneath her feet. But I'm not haunted anymore. Maybe I never was.”

GhostsHauntingDark Academia
Book:A Lesson in Vengeance
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“The City That Holds Me The sidewalks I stumble on more than once
Make me feel like I am walking home. The place cold enough to die for, Yet I walk towards the next day without freezing. The river that drowns my words,
As I wander its same stretch, up and down. My chapels know my favourite corners,
Where I light my candles each good Sunday.”

PoetryNostalgiaRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic ImageryUrban Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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“Pothole in the Sky My veins ground too deep to become a statue,
And the flight is delayed too late—
So I take off again. I take off without the vein of the city
That lifts me to heaven with a million lights
And a few streets in between. The darkness blooms like a desert,
And in my aeroplane, I become a small flower,
Travelling too far and without sight. Clouds outside windows become a stair frame,
And the dark blue of mornings drifts by,
While I dream of Paris and every thought That drifted by.”

PoetryNostalgiaRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic ImageryTravel Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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“The Czech chandelier was made of ten little skulls and too many bones for us to count. The house was filled with storied objects: dark portraits of her ancestors in scalloped, gilded frames; a grand piano, never played; massive chests with cavernous keyholes; a Bozdoğan mace; a solid-bronze candelabra, three feet high, with nine tendriling, gravity-defying arms. Around the living room hung suits of armor that fortified our feeling that her home was our fortress, our defense against the wrongheaded world.”

GothicDark AcademiaDecorChandelierArmory
Book:The Extinction of Irena Rey
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“Though not untidy, exactly, it verged on being so. Books were stacked on every available surface; the tables were cluttered papers, ashtrays, bottles of whiskey, boxes of chocolates; umbrellas and galoshes made passage difficult in the narrow hall… Camilla’s night table was littered with empty teacups, leaky pens, dead marigolds in a water glass, and at the foot of her bed was a half-played game of solitaire… everywhere I looked was some fresh oddity: an old stereopticon, arrowheads in a dusty glass case, a staghorn fern, a bird’s skeleton…”

Dark AcademiaThe Secret HistoryDonna Tartt
Book:The Secret History
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“You know that I am one of the foremost living experts on the ways of the Folk," I said. I was not worried about bragging, for this was a simple statement of fact. "That is the problem," Lilja replied. "Yes, I know that you know the Folk, but there is a difference between knowing and feeling. Those of us who live among them would never trust the tall ones. For all you have read about and studied the Folk, you have never truly lived with them, dear. They are like--- like nature. Can you understand the feeling of a winter night, or a spring wind, if you have only read about it?" This was an uncomfortable echo of something Farris had said to me once. I pursed my lips and replied, "All right. Let us accept for the sake of argument that you possess a truer understanding of the Folk than I, that books and academic knowledge are secondary to lived experience. What then would you have me fear?" She hesitated. "Power," she said at last. "In our stories, it is the great ones--- the lords and ladies, the monarchs and generals, that one must avoid above all else. They are the true monsters lurking in the night." This again! I thought. Aloud I said, "I have heard a similar opinion recently from another friend of mine, who seems to think Wendell will abandon me to die of exposure or some such, I suppose when he becomes tired of me." "Oh, no!" Lilja said. "That is not what I meant--- I don't believe for a second that Wendell would harm you. But I worry there will come a day when you no longer recognize him. And what hurt is worse than that?”

RomantasyDark AcademiaConcernsOverpowerFaerie King
Book:Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales
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“Paris The Seine dresses in light black,
Mimicking the dark grey of the sky, And so, I drown my ink into it. Each poem becomes art, Reflecting and dancing
Around my hands with care. The notes the river shares
Become a painting that inspires
All the great artists housed in its museums. Still, I vow and pray by its sight —
Yet I dare not claim to be an artist
As great as the one in sight. In Paris.”

PoetryParisRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryArtistic InspirationLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic Imagery
Book:The Willow Song
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“Parisian Endings Endings share a bond between right and wrong,
Upon every poet who dares to cross a line. The Parisian sky glows light with blue and orange,
Each hill a line of fortune, unique to every soul. Words cross the heart I call cœur,
And dawn in the same eternal hues behind her. By noon, I become the city itself,
Only to return as her passenger,
By walking far enough to lose her.”

PoetryParisRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryFleeting MomentsLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic Imagery
Book:The Willow Song
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“The Weight of Falling Leaves Winter swept onto my doorstep quite easily,
Like it overtook every part of my heart,
The moment you left my autumn to fall. So I kept things as you left them – frozen,
Showing no sign of any emotion or feeling,
Like the leaves that wither and die in the ice. Never fulfilling the purpose for which they fell,
Yet crumbling under shoes heavier than the burden
The tree gave them by letting them go. They long to be carried away by the wind or the elements,
Not trapped forever in this frozen expanse of white,
Beneath starry skies that gaze upon each December night. I can no longer bear to look upon them,
So I set them free with a kiss to keep;
Filled with the fire of your lips, finally redeemed –
See how they gleam with beauty, long before spring.”

PoetryLiterary FictionRomanticismDark AcademiaLove And LossContemporary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudeWinter PoetrySeasonal Poetry
Author:Laura Chouette
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“Poem with Adjustments And I write out of worry,
I write out of fear,
I write for writing's sake,
And I drown in between these motives. I become a poet,
I become a lover,
I become a human, And still, I seek to become a writer. I become still in the seeking.”

PoetryRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryExistential PoetryEthereal SolitudeIntrospective PoetryCreative LongingWriting And Identity
Book:The Willow Song
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“All The Ink I Wasted All the ink I wasted
Climbing up ivory pages and cursive titles
Of whoever asked to buy and sell -
Words and souls and hope and pain. All the nights I spent
Crying out to the world what I thought
Or blaming myself for not hearing back -
Worlds are crashing inside myself. All the fights I fought
Calming my strife to succeed and feel
Overwhelming hopes and dreams in spare -
Wondering if I write my fate or dare to seal. All the wasted words
Counting each number up I tried to spell
Only to be reminded of despair once again -
Worth is nothing nowadays with a price to sell.”

PoetryRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryExistential PoetryEthereal SolitudeIntrospective PoetryArtistic Struggle
Book:The Willow Song
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“What Other Can a Man Lay but Tragedy? What other can a man lay but tragedy?
No other thing would be ripe in time. Grief is a flower that blooms often,
And sorrow is the rain that waters it sometimes. Each man reaps what he once sows—
With pain, and some with bitter ease. The sky above every head of gloom
Grows thicker with clouds and earthly deeds. The field does not bloom in summer
But on the last day of every man's each.”

PoetryRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryPhilosophical PoetryMelancholic PoetryExistential PoetryEthereal SolitudeFate And Tragedy
Book:The Willow Song
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“I Will Go Back to Paris in Spring I will go back to Paris in spring,
To see its life and not the still,
To watch the sky in a different hue,
With the same buildings at each rue. I will walk and pass the same things by,
And wonder again with a sigh.
Till winter comes, it will be long,
Yet I wonder when I will come back along.”

PoetryParisRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic ImageryTravel Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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“We Haunt the People We Love We haunt the people that we love,
And we become ruins by doing so.
Chasing them down every line,
No matter if spoken or lived by it. Running in circles, remembering them,
While watching ourselves turn into others' ghosts.
We haunt and live—
And we will outlive.”

PoetryRomanticismDark AcademiaLove And LossContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudeGhosts Of The Past
Book:The Willow Song
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“The matter both intrigued and unsettled him : would both their fires keep burning bright, or would they suffocate each other, consuming all and everything around them? (...) Lee was something else, more than a simple fire; she burned like a shooting star. Enflamed, consumed from within, drifting along and brightening the horizon. Lee was as stubborn, loyal and driven as he was... lonely, yet, surrounded by people they loved, individuals who fueled their fires, gave them a reason to shine. Does fire burn fire? Could they learn to become one giant pyre?”

RomanceQuotesFictionFantasyDark FantasyNew Adult RomanceDark AcademiaAdult RomanceFantasy Romance BooksWitches And Wizards
Book:Hexes and exes
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