All men are mad in some way or the other, and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God’s madmen too, the rest of the world.
BRAM STOKERThen a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road, a long, agonized wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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Enter freely and of your own free will!
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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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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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The only beautiful thing in the world whose beauty lasts for ever is a pure, fair soul.
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I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our mouths.
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How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men–even if there are monsters in it.
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The Dead travel fast.
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Doctor, you don’t know what it is to doubt everything, even yourself. No, you don’t; you couldn’t with eyebrows like yours.
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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.
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Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain.
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No man knows where the Castle of King Death is. All men and women, boys and girls, and even little wee children should so live that when they have to enter the Castle and see the grim King, they may not fear to behold his face.
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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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For me, I say no, but then I am old, and life, with his sunshine, his fair places, his song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You others are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet in store. What say you?
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There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word, DRACULA.
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Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to its own terrors.
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