Tell me all about it, dear; tell me all about everything, for there is nothing which interests you which will not be dear to me.
Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer--both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.
You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think you have left me without a place to rest; but I have more. My revenge is just begun!
I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul.
Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.
It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import.
We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things.
For life be, after all, only a waitin' for somethin' else than what we're doin'; and death be all that we can rightly depend on.
There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
Once again...welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.
I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.
Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are; that some people see things that others cannot?
No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.
