Matthew Lewis (writer) quotes

Matthew Lewis was an English novelist, dramatist, and poet, best known for his Gothic novel "The Monk." His works contributed significantly to the popularity and development of Gothic fiction in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. He became a central figure in the literary movement that explored themes of horror, the supernatural, and moral ambiguity. Here are 11 of his quotes:

Many of the narratives can only tend to excite ideas the worst calculated for a female breast: Every thing is called plainly and roundly by its name; and the annals of a Brothel would scarcely furnish a greater choice of indecent expressions. Yet this is the Book, which young Women are recommended to study.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

Farewel, thou cruel world! – to morrow No more thy scorn my heart shall tear: – The grave will shield the child of sorrow, And heaven will hear the orphan's prayer.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

An Author, whether good or bad, or between both, is an Animal whom every body is privileged to attack; For though All are not able to write Books, all conceive themselves able to judge them.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

A Warrior so bold, and a Virgin so bright Conversed, as They sat on the green: They gazed on each other with tender delight; Alonzo the Brave was the name of the Knight, The Maid's was the Fair Imogine.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

Oh! hush these suspicions," Fair Imogine said, "Offensive to Love and to me! For if ye be living, or if ye be dead, I swear by the Virgin, that none in your stead Shall Husband of Imogine be.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

The worms, They crept in, and the worms, They crept out, And sported his eyes and his temples about, While the Spectre addressed Imogine.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

Another Cleland see in Lewis rise. Why sleep the ministers of truth and law? Has the state no controul, no decent awe, While each with each in madd'ning orgies vie Pandars to lust and licens'd blasphemy? Can senates hear without a kindred rage? Oh may a poet's lightning blast the page, Nor with the bolt of Nemesis in vain Supply the laws, that wake not to restrain!

Matthew Lewis (writer)

All hail, M. P.! from whose infernal brain Thin-sheeted phantoms glide, a grisly train; At whose command "grim women" throng in crowds, And kings of fire, of water, and of clouds, With "small gray men," "wild yagers," and what not, To crown with honour thee and Walter Scott; Again all hail! if tales like thine may please, St. Luke alone can vanquish the disease; Even Satan's self with thee might dread to dwell, And in thy skull discern a deeper hell.

Matthew Lewis (writer)

He was a child, and a spoiled child, but a child of high imagination; and so he wasted himself on ghost-stories and German romances.

Matthew Lewis (writer)