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No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.

Bram Stoker

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Bram Stoker
Age: 64 †
Born: 1847
Born: November 8
Died: 1912
Died: April 20
Clerk
Journalist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Theatre Critic
Theatre Manager
Writer
Clontarf
Ireland
Abraham Stoker
Suffering
Eye
Pain
Night
Suffered
Heart
Till
Men
Dear
Sweet
Morning

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We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our only anchor.
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I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.
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I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.
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Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past.
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We learn of great things by little experiences.
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Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.
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Though sympathy alone can't alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable.
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A brave man's hand can speak for itself, it does not even need a woman's love to hear its music.
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The only beautiful thing in the world whose beauty lasts for ever is a pure, fair soul.
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I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us. A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.
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I want you to believe...to believe in things that you cannot.
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No man knows where the Castle of King Death is. All men and women, boys and girls, and even little wee children should so live that when they have to enter the Castle and see the grim King, they may not fear to behold his face.
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I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him.
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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. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!
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These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall. But the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow.
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I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.
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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.
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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?
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All men are mad in some way or the other, and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God's madmen too, the rest of the world.
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