A brave man’s hand can speak for itself, it does not even need a woman’s love to hear its music.
BRAM STOKERI am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!
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She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.
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And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere ‘modernity’ cannot kill.
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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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But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one. Men know him not, and to know not is to care not for.
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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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The only beautiful thing in the world whose beauty lasts for ever is a pure, fair soul.
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Bleeding hearts, and dry bones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall — all dance together to the music that he make with that smileless mouth of him.
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I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.
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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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Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?
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Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past.
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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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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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Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.
BRAM STOKER