Quotes from Bram Stoker

Oh, why must a man like that be made unhappy when there are lots of girls about who would worship the very ground he trod on?

And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere 'modernity' cannot kill.

Yes, there is some one I love, though he has not told me yet that he even loves me.

There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part.

We learn of great things by little experiences.

Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.

It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.

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.

Because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope.

You reason well, and your wit is bold, but you are too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear, and that which is outside your daily life is not of account to you. Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are, that some people see things that others cannot?

Never did tombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.

Come,' he said, 'come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not; we fight him all the same.

We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our only anchor.

Our toil must be in silence, and our efforts all in secret; for this enlightened age, when men believe not even what they see, the doubting of wise men would be his greatest strength.

Love is, after all, a selfish thing; and it throws a black shadow on anything between which and the light it stands.

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. 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.

Sleep has no place it can call its own.

These friends - and he laid his hand on some of the books - have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England; and to know her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it what it is.

The blood is life... and it shall be mine!

All men are mad in some way or another, and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God's madmen too, the rest of the world.

Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.

Perhaps at the end the little things may teach us most.

And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for awhile; and shall later on be my companion and my helper.

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in the semblance of man?