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?
BRAM STOKERAh, 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.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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He means to succeed, and a man who has centuries before him can afford to wait and to go slow.
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Sleep has no place it can call its own.
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Let me tell you, my friend, that there are things done today in electrical science which would have been deemed unholy by the very man who discovered electricity, who would themselves not so long before been burned as wizards
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Whether it is the old lady’s fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.
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It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.
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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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My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side.
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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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As yet we know nothing of what goes to create or evoke the active spark of life.
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There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.
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Faith … that faculty which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue.
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Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past.
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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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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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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 STOKER