Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.

For me, I say no, but then I am old, and life, with his sunshine, his fair places, his song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You others are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet in store. What say you?

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

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

Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!

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

Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to its own terrors.