I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.
BRAM STOKERI have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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I’m a hard nut to crack, and I take it standing up.
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Yes, there is some one I love, though he has not told me yet that he even loves me.
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I have cried even when the laugh did choke me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just the same.
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She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.
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Then they will see that, perhaps, they too have some of the same fault in themselves – although perhaps it does not come out in the same way – and then they must try to conquer that fault.
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The blood is life… and it shall be mine!
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Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.
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Our toil must be in silence, and our efforts all in secret; for 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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Keep it always with you that laughter who knock at your door and say, ‘May I come in?’ is not true laughter. No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, ‘I am here.
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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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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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And then away for home! Away to the quickest and nearest train! Away from this cursed land, where the devil and his children stil walk with earthly feet!
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Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer–both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.
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Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere.
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But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one. Men know him not, and to know not is to care not for.
BRAM STOKER