Ruins of Despair
@ruinsofdespair.bsky.social
A weary pilgrim on the grave of the Romantic Hero, a forlorn eulogist cast upon the desolate shore of the exquisite agony that is The Gothic.
#books #gothic #romanticism
'Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' (P.B. Shelley)
#books #gothic #romanticism
'Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' (P.B. Shelley)
Pinned
I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.
– Lord Byron
– Lord Byron
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Author: William J. Long (William Joseph Long), 1867-1952.
Publication Year: First published in 1901.
Publication Year: First published in 1901.
January 13, 2026 at 2:38 AM
Author: William J. Long (William Joseph Long), 1867-1952.
Publication Year: First published in 1901.
Publication Year: First published in 1901.
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Frank Meadow Sutcliffe (1853-1941)
"Sailing ships, Whitby Harbour", ca. 1880s-1900
#photography #ship #WhitbyHarbour #FrankMeadowSutcliffe
"Sailing ships, Whitby Harbour", ca. 1880s-1900
#photography #ship #WhitbyHarbour #FrankMeadowSutcliffe
January 7, 2026 at 11:56 AM
Frank Meadow Sutcliffe (1853-1941)
"Sailing ships, Whitby Harbour", ca. 1880s-1900
#photography #ship #WhitbyHarbour #FrankMeadowSutcliffe
"Sailing ships, Whitby Harbour", ca. 1880s-1900
#photography #ship #WhitbyHarbour #FrankMeadowSutcliffe
Kloster Walkenried im Schnee (Walkenried Abbey in Snow)
Carl Hasenpflug (1802–1858)
Carl Hasenpflug (1802–1858)
January 13, 2026 at 1:46 PM
Kloster Walkenried im Schnee (Walkenried Abbey in Snow)
Carl Hasenpflug (1802–1858)
Carl Hasenpflug (1802–1858)
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Chant of Birds at Dusk
Ph. Edward Steichen, 1899
Ph. Edward Steichen, 1899
January 13, 2026 at 7:59 AM
Chant of Birds at Dusk
Ph. Edward Steichen, 1899
Ph. Edward Steichen, 1899
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
We report: mid-morning, the moon is firmly past its upper culmination, and on its way to the horizon. It is waning, a week away from the new moon. In the nighttime, it is a late visitor we see when we should not be awake; in the daytime, it is a wild cryptid we stumble upon.
January 12, 2026 at 10:36 PM
We report: mid-morning, the moon is firmly past its upper culmination, and on its way to the horizon. It is waning, a week away from the new moon. In the nighttime, it is a late visitor we see when we should not be awake; in the daytime, it is a wild cryptid we stumble upon.
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Moonlight in Winter, Louis Douzette (1834-1924).
January 13, 2026 at 9:09 AM
Moonlight in Winter, Louis Douzette (1834-1924).
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
I feel like the Moon and the entire world looked particulary beutiful that evening.
But I don't think it was the Moon or the views that made me feel that way.
#photography
But I don't think it was the Moon or the views that made me feel that way.
#photography
January 11, 2026 at 11:02 PM
I feel like the Moon and the entire world looked particulary beutiful that evening.
But I don't think it was the Moon or the views that made me feel that way.
#photography
But I don't think it was the Moon or the views that made me feel that way.
#photography
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Chauncey F. Ryder (1868–1949)
‘The Cypresses’, 1934 etching
‘The Cypresses’, 1934 etching
January 10, 2026 at 10:00 AM
Chauncey F. Ryder (1868–1949)
‘The Cypresses’, 1934 etching
‘The Cypresses’, 1934 etching
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Adelaide Claxton, 'The Party on the Stairs'
January 10, 2026 at 6:29 PM
Adelaide Claxton, 'The Party on the Stairs'
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
'I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.'
~Joyce Kilmer
🎨G. M. de L'Aubiniere
#BookWormSat
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.'
~Joyce Kilmer
🎨G. M. de L'Aubiniere
#BookWormSat
January 10, 2026 at 6:51 PM
'I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.'
~Joyce Kilmer
🎨G. M. de L'Aubiniere
#BookWormSat
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.'
~Joyce Kilmer
🎨G. M. de L'Aubiniere
#BookWormSat
Lille interiør med brændende lys (Small interior with candlelight)
Laurits Andersen Ring 1898
Laurits Andersen Ring 1898
January 11, 2026 at 3:03 AM
Lille interiør med brændende lys (Small interior with candlelight)
Laurits Andersen Ring 1898
Laurits Andersen Ring 1898
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
renascence
good night, sleep deeply
good night, sleep deeply
January 9, 2026 at 7:38 PM
renascence
good night, sleep deeply
good night, sleep deeply
The gloomiest nook of the gloomy Castle Dracula: the chapel.
'There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word
DRACULA.
This then was the Un-Dead home of the King-Vampire, to whom so many more were due.'
#BookWormSat
'There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word
DRACULA.
This then was the Un-Dead home of the King-Vampire, to whom so many more were due.'
#BookWormSat
January 10, 2026 at 12:15 PM
The gloomiest nook of the gloomy Castle Dracula: the chapel.
'There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word
DRACULA.
This then was the Un-Dead home of the King-Vampire, to whom so many more were due.'
#BookWormSat
'There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word
DRACULA.
This then was the Un-Dead home of the King-Vampire, to whom so many more were due.'
#BookWormSat
January 10, 2026 at 12:08 PM
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
"The house was a sepulchre, our fear and suffering lay buried in the ruins. There would be no resurrection.”
(Daphne du Maurier)
🎨 Ferdinand Knab
#bookwormsat
(Daphne du Maurier)
🎨 Ferdinand Knab
#bookwormsat
January 10, 2026 at 11:00 AM
"The house was a sepulchre, our fear and suffering lay buried in the ruins. There would be no resurrection.”
(Daphne du Maurier)
🎨 Ferdinand Knab
#bookwormsat
(Daphne du Maurier)
🎨 Ferdinand Knab
#bookwormsat
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
There is shadow under this red rock, …
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
The Waste Land
T. S. Eliot
©️Aaron Reed #BookWormSat
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
The Waste Land
T. S. Eliot
©️Aaron Reed #BookWormSat
January 10, 2026 at 11:24 AM
There is shadow under this red rock, …
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
The Waste Land
T. S. Eliot
©️Aaron Reed #BookWormSat
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
The Waste Land
T. S. Eliot
©️Aaron Reed #BookWormSat
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
"They see no light and dwell in darkness,
they are clothed like birds in wings for garments,
and dust has gathered on the door and the bolt."
Extract from Ishtar's Descent into the Underworld #BookwormSat
🎨 'Babylon Fallen' by Gustave Doré, 1866
they are clothed like birds in wings for garments,
and dust has gathered on the door and the bolt."
Extract from Ishtar's Descent into the Underworld #BookwormSat
🎨 'Babylon Fallen' by Gustave Doré, 1866
January 10, 2026 at 11:16 AM
"They see no light and dwell in darkness,
they are clothed like birds in wings for garments,
and dust has gathered on the door and the bolt."
Extract from Ishtar's Descent into the Underworld #BookwormSat
🎨 'Babylon Fallen' by Gustave Doré, 1866
they are clothed like birds in wings for garments,
and dust has gathered on the door and the bolt."
Extract from Ishtar's Descent into the Underworld #BookwormSat
🎨 'Babylon Fallen' by Gustave Doré, 1866
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is enveloped in darkness, beginning with the Paradise Lost quote:
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?
and ending:
He was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance.
#BookWormSat
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?
and ending:
He was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance.
#BookWormSat
January 10, 2026 at 11:37 AM
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is enveloped in darkness, beginning with the Paradise Lost quote:
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?
and ending:
He was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance.
#BookWormSat
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?
and ending:
He was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance.
#BookWormSat
Reposted by Ruins of Despair
A land that is lonelier than ruin
A sea that is stranger than death
Far fields that a rose never blew in, Wan waste where the winds lack breath;
Waste endless & boundless & flowerless
But of marsh-blossoms fruitless as free
Where earth lies exhausted, as powerless
To strive with the sea
#BookwormSat
A sea that is stranger than death
Far fields that a rose never blew in, Wan waste where the winds lack breath;
Waste endless & boundless & flowerless
But of marsh-blossoms fruitless as free
Where earth lies exhausted, as powerless
To strive with the sea
#BookwormSat
January 10, 2026 at 10:09 AM
A land that is lonelier than ruin
A sea that is stranger than death
Far fields that a rose never blew in, Wan waste where the winds lack breath;
Waste endless & boundless & flowerless
But of marsh-blossoms fruitless as free
Where earth lies exhausted, as powerless
To strive with the sea
#BookwormSat
A sea that is stranger than death
Far fields that a rose never blew in, Wan waste where the winds lack breath;
Waste endless & boundless & flowerless
But of marsh-blossoms fruitless as free
Where earth lies exhausted, as powerless
To strive with the sea
#BookwormSat