Love is, after all, a selfish thing; and it throws a black shadow on anything between which and the light it stands.
BRAM STOKERDoctor, you don’t know what it is to doubt everything, even yourself. No, you don’t; you couldn’t with eyebrows like yours.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.
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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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These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall. But the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow.
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It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.
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Let me be accurate in everything, for though you and I have seen some strange things together, you may at the first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That the many horrors and the so long strain on nerves has at the last turn my brain.
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He may not enter anywhere at the first, unless there be some one of the household who bid him to come, though afterwards he can come as he please.
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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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The blood is the life!
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Denn die Todten reiten Schnell. (For the dead travel fast.)
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I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.
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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!
BRAM STOKER -
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.
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Ah, we men and women are like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us in different directions.
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It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.
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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