Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to its own terrors.
BRAM STOKERSleep has no place it can call its own.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.
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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 do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.
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You cannot guess or measure the terrible endless longing to see the gates opened, and to be able to join the white figures within.
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Keep it always with you that laughter who knock at your door and say, ‘May I come in?’ is not true laughter. No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, ‘I am here.
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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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For now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help sooth me.
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The Dead travel fast.
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Despair has its own calms.
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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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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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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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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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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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She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.
BRAM STOKER