I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.
BRAM STOKERThere is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebration.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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Chasing an errant swarm of bees is nothing to following a naked lunatic when the fit of escaping is upon him!
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But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths, or later, and for ever, the feet you love must walk in paths of flame!
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A brave man’s hand can speak for itself, it does not even need a woman’s love to hear its music.
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This man belongs to me, I want him!
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Whether it is the old lady’s fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.
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Despair has its own calms.
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It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature. Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in any way, even by death, and we fly back to first principles of hope and enjoyment.
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He means to succeed, and a man who has centuries before him can afford to wait and to go slow.
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Faith … that faculty which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue.
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I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us.
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We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be.
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But we are pledged to set the world free. Our toil must be in silence, and our efforts all in secret. For in this enlightened age, when men believe not even what they see, the doubting of wise men would be his greatest strength.
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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.
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How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.
BRAM STOKER