Sleep has no place it can call its own.

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

I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.

Sleep has no place it can call its own.

I am Dracula, and I bid you welcome . . .

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere.

Let me be accurate in everything, for though you and I have seen some strange things together, you may at the first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That the many horrors and the so long strain on nerves has at the last turn my brain.