You can't sweep other people off their feet, if you can't be swept off your own.
Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead.
With his long sharp nails he opened a vein in his breast. When the blood began to spurt out, he took my hands in one of his, holding them tight and with the other ceased my neck and pressed my mouth to the wound so that I must either suffocate or swallow. . . Some of the. . . Oh my god…my god What have I done?
She has man's brain--a brain that a man should have were he much gifted--and woman's heart. The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me when He made that so good combination.
Though sympathy alone can't alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable.
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.
We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be.
After graduating from college I worked at a variety of jobs, from banking to politics. I enjoyed whatever I was doing at the time but I didn't love my work.
I had a romance novel inside me, but I paid three sailors to beat it out if me with steel pipes.
Leslie Stein's comics give readers privileged access to a complete and wholly original world of gently skewed wonders.
I was given life because it was my time, and now I take leave of it according to the same law. Content with the natural sequence of these events, I am touched neither by joy nor by grief. I am simply hanging in the air. . . incapable of freeing myself, tied by the threads of things.