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.

No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart.

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

There was a deliberate voluptuousness that was both thrilling and repulsive. And as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal till I could see in the moonlight the moisture Then lapped the white, sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited.

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

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

Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?