I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.
BRAM STOKERShe was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.
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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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A wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.
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No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.
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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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You yourself never loved; you never love! Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so?
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It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import.
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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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Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.
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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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As yet we know nothing of what goes to create or evoke the active spark of life.
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Truly there is no such thing as finality.
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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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The Stars are a long way off, and their words get somewhat dulled in the message.
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Paris is a city of centralisation–and centralisation and classification are closely allied. In the early times, when centralisation is becoming a fact, its forerunner is classification. All things which are similar or analogous become grouped together, and from the grouping of groups rises one whole or central point.
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She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.
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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.
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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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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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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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There is a reason why all things are as they are.
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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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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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There are such beings as vampires, some of us have evidence that they exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy experience, the teachings and the records of the past give proof enough for sane peoples.
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Despair has its own calms.
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