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 STOKERHow 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.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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Once again…welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.
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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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It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.
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.
BRAM STOKER -
Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.
BRAM STOKER -
I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.
BRAM STOKER -
Oh, my dear, if you only knew how strange is the matter regarding which I am here, it is you who would laugh.
BRAM STOKER -
We learn of great things by little experiences.
BRAM STOKER -
Sleep has no place it can call its own.
BRAM STOKER -
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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Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings.
BRAM STOKER -
No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart.
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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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There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebration.
BRAM STOKER -
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.
BRAM STOKER






