Water sleeps, and the enemy is sleepless. - Bram Stoker

Being proposed to all is very nice and all that sort of thing, but it isn’t at all a happy thing when you have to see a poor fellow, whom you know loves you honestly, going away and looking all broken-hearted, and to know that, no matter what he may say at the moment, you are passing quite out if his life

I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting.

I suppose that nature works on such a hopeful basis that we believe against ourselves that things will be as they ought to be, not as we should know they will be.