Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.

— Bram Stoker

The blood is the life!

— Bram Stoker

The effect on Lucy was not bad, for the faint seemed to merge subtly into the narcotic sleep. It was with a feeling of personal pride that I could see a faint tinge of color steal back into the pallid cheeks and lips. No man knows, till he experiences it, what it is to feel his own lifeblood drawn away into the veins of the woman he loves. The Professor watched me critically. "That will do," he said. "Already?" I remonstrated. "You took a great deal more from Art." To which he smiled a sad sort of smile as he replied, "He is her lover, her fiancé. You have work, much work to do for her and for others, and the present will suffice.

— Bram Stoker

There are darkness in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.

— Bram Stoker

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

— Bram Stoker

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.

— Bram Stoker

There is a reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.

— Bram Stoker

There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.

— Bram Stoker

There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word, DRACULA.

— Bram Stoker

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.

— Bram Stoker