And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon life was to me again.
BRAM STOKERI’m a hard nut to crack, and I take it standing up.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker
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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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Above the care of Nature and of State, Suspended in the noon of Night we wait, All slumber nursing, to make sweet and pure, While secret Nature, weaving works the cure. We are the handmaids of the hollow night,
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This man belongs to me, I want him!
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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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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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If this be an ordered selfishness, then we should pause before we condemn any one for the vice of egoism, for there may be deeper root for its causes than we have knowledge of.
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It would be at once his sheath and his armor, and his weapons to destroy us, his enemies, who are willing to peril even our own souls for the safety of one we love. For the good of mankind, and for the honor and glory of God.
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I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him.
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Truly there is no such thing as finality.
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I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us. A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.
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Enter freely and of your own free will!
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I want to cut off her head and take out her heart.
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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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There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
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A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century.
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It is ever thus that the things which we do wrong – although they may seem little at the time, and though from the hardness of our hearts we pass them lightly by – come back to us with bitterness.
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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century.
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Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!
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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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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 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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I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our mouths.
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I have learned not to think little of any one’s belief, no matter how strange it may be. I have tried to keep an open mind, and it is not the ordinary things of life that could close it, but the strange things, the extraordinary things, the things that make one doubt if they be mad or sane.
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Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown horror as it has for me!
BRAM STOKER