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,
BRAM STOKERWhether it is the old lady’s fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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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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It is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles; and yet when King Laugh come he make them all dance to the tune he play.
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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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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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Love is, after all, a selfish thing; and it throws a black shadow on anything between which and the light it stands.
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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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Sleep has no place it can call its own.
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The inscrutable laws of sex have so arranged that even a timid woman is not afraid of a fierce and haughty man.
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The Stars are a long way off, and their words get somewhat dulled in the message.
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There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.
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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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Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings.
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Enter freely and of your own free will!
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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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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