Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.

I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.

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

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

Enter freely and of your own free will!

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.

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.