There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
BRAM STOKERGood women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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She is one of God’s women fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that its light can be here on earth.
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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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The Dead travel fast.
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Faith … that faculty which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue.
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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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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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Love is, after all, a selfish thing; and it throws a black shadow on anything between which and the light it stands.
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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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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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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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Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead.
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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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Then 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.
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I have been so long master that I would be master still, or at least that none other should be master of me.
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The blood is the life!
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