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.
BRAM STOKERIt 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.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings.
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I stood beside Van Helsing, and said;- “Ah, well, poor girl, there is peace for her at last. It is the end!” He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity:- “Not so; alas! not so. It is only the beginning!
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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.
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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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No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart.
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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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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.
BRAM STOKER -
But hush! No telling to others that make so inquisitive questions. We must obey, and silence is a part of obedience, and obedience is to bring you strong and well into loving arms that wait for you.
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She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.
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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.
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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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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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I’m a hard nut to crack, and I take it standing up.
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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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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.
BRAM STOKER