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.
BRAM STOKERFaith … that faculty which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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I want to cut off her head and take out her heart.
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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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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?
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Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker
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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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Take me away from all this Death.
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There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.
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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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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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Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to its own terrors.
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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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Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere.
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A brave man’s hand can speak for itself, it does not even need a woman’s love to hear its music.
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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.
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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.
BRAM STOKER






