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BRAM STOKERLet me tell you, my friend, that there are things done today in electrical science which would have been deemed unholy by the very man who discovered electricity, who would themselves not so long before been burned as wizards
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.
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But we are strong, each in our purpose, and we are all more strong together.
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A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century.
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It is something like the way dame Nature gathers round a foreign body an envelope of some insensitive tissue which can protect from evil that which it would otherwise harm by contact.
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Let me tell you, my friend, that there are things done today in electrical science which would have been deemed unholy by the very man who discovered electricity, who would themselves not so long before been burned as wizards
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There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
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Take me away from all this Death.
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I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.
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No man knows where the Castle of King Death is. All men and women, boys and girls, and even little wee children should so live that when they have to enter the Castle and see the grim King, they may not fear to behold his face.
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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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Paris is a city of centralisation–and centralisation and classification are closely allied. In the early times, when centralisation is becoming a fact, its forerunner is classification. All things which are similar or analogous become grouped together, and from the grouping of groups rises one whole or central point.
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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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Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker
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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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Because if a woman’s heart was free a man might have hope.
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