She is one of God’s women fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that its light can be here on earth.
BRAM STOKERI suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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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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The angels of the dark, restoring sight; We go — the pains of Day to soothe, console — Awake, arise! Behold thou art made whole.
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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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Chasing an errant swarm of bees is nothing to following a naked lunatic when the fit of escaping is upon him!
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Enter freely and of your own free will!
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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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We are able to learn from a failure, but perhaps not much from a success!
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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.
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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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I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.
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My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side.
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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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It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature. Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in any way, even by death, and we fly back to first principles of hope and enjoyment.
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Yes, there is some one I love, though he has not told me yet that he even loves me.
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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