Love is, after all, a selfish thing; and it throws a black shadow on anything between which and the light it stands.
BRAM STOKERBut a stranger in a strange land, he is no one. Men know him not, and to know not is to care not for.
More Bram Stoker Quotes
-
-
No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart.
BRAM STOKER -
There are such beings as vampires, some of us have evidence that they exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy experience, the teachings and the records of the past give proof enough for sane peoples.
BRAM STOKER -
My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side.
BRAM STOKER -
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.
BRAM STOKER -
He may not enter anywhere at the first, unless there be some one of the household who bid him to come, though afterwards he can come as he please.
BRAM STOKER -
We learn of great things by little experiences.
BRAM STOKER -
Euthanasia” is an excellent and comforting word! I am grateful to whoever invented it.
BRAM STOKER -
You yourself never loved; you never love! Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so?
BRAM STOKER -
The blood is the life!
BRAM STOKER -
The blood is life… and it shall be mine!
BRAM STOKER -
I’m a hard nut to crack, and I take it standing up.
BRAM STOKER -
I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him.
BRAM STOKER -
All men are mad in some way or the other, and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God’s madmen too, the rest of the world.
BRAM STOKER -
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?
BRAM STOKER -
And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere ‘modernity’ cannot kill.
BRAM STOKER