Jonathan Harker Quotes

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

Doctor, you don't know what it is to doubt everything, even yourself. No, you don't; you couldn't with eyebrows like yours.

It seems to me that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China? - Jonathan Harker

It is nineteenth century up-to-date with a vengeance. And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere 'modernity' cannot kill.

Los siglos pasados tuvieron y siguen teniendo sus propios poderes que el "modernismo" no puede suprimir.

I loved him and honoured him more than I can say, and that my latest and truest thought will be always for him.

I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with a long double apron, front, and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she bowed and said, "The Herr Englishman?" "Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker." She smiled, and gave some message

Bila kita berhadapan dengan kengerian yang begitu hebat, barulah kita mengerti apa arti kengerian itu sebenarnya

Despair has its own calms. —Jonathan Harker

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in the semblance of man? —Jonathan Harker

The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of. —Jonathan Harker

feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import. —Jonathan Harker

We seem to be drifting into unknown places and unknown ways. —Jonathan Harker

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. —Jonathan Harker

As I must do something or go mad, I write in this diary.

I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of instinct; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were stirring to answer the call.

How can I escape from the dreadful thrall of night and gloom and fear?

I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was closing around me more closely.

Come with me, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my house against your will, though sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire it. Come!

He had evidently forgotten all about the dark stranger, as in his illness he had forgotten all that this episode reminded him of.

The light and warmth and the count’s courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears.

I wish I could put down all that he said exactly as he said it, for to me it was most fascinating. It seemed to have in it a whole history of the country.

For a man who was never in the country, and who did not evidently do much in the way of business, his knowledge and acumen were wonderful.

What manner of man is, or what manner of creature is it in the semblance of a man?

Sanity and assurance of safety are things of the past.

I was conscious of the presence of the count, and of his being as if lapped in a stain of fury.

I have had a great shock, and when I try to think of what it is I feel my head spin round, and I do not know if it was all real or the dreaming of a madman.

I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the count must have carried here. I tried to satisfy myself on the subject, but could not arrive at any unquestionable result.

The count’s mysterious warning frightened me at the time, it frightens me more now when I think of it, for in future he has a fearful hold upon me. I shall fear to doubt what he may say!

He went rapidly to where the blue flame rose-it must have been very faint, for it did not seem to illumine the place around it at all-and gathering a few stones, formed them into some device.

 I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.

As I look round this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were-who are-waiting to suck my blood.

How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware of how you meddle with him, or you’ll have to deal with me.

Let me advise you, my dear young friend-nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance to sleep in any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe.

The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most Western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.

Of one thing I am glad: if it was the count that carried me here and undressed me, he must have been hurried in his task, for my pockets are intact. I am sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which he would not have brooked.

When I saw the count’s head coming out from the window, I did not see the face, but I knew the mean by the neck and the movement of his back and arms. In any case, I could not mistake the hands which I had had so many opportunities of studying.

He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.

Do you wish for me to stay so long?’ I asked, for my heart grew cold at the thought. ‘I desire it much; nay, I will take no refusal. When your master, employer, what you will, engaged that someone should come on his behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be consulted. I have not stinted. Is this not so?

Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovnia; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

While I live on here there is but one thing to hope for: that I may not go mad, if indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I serve his purpose.

As the count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal. The count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a grim kind of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his proturberant teeth, set himself down again, on his own side of the fireplace.

Last night the count asked me in the suavest tones to write three letters, one saying that my work here was nearly done and that I should start for home within a few days, another that I was starting on the next morning from the time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived at Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the count whilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be to excite his anger. He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him, my only chance is to prolong my opportunities.

Mr. Darwin demonstrated that we- male and female alike- were descended from wild animals. Women, held high in men's esteem and given the task of living up to a higher moral standard, seemed as capable as men of bestial behavior. Jonathan claimed that the women seduced him. It made sense, I suppose. It wasn't as if men evolved from beasts and women evolved from angels. But if women too gave free rein to our base wants, as I did in my dreams, what would happen to our society?

Van Helsing

Dear me,’ he said. ‘This case gets stranger by the minute. Why can’t I have a nice stabbing in a Limehouse public house to investigate, with a dozen witnesses and a quick confession?

How do you think he will react if I tell him that I believe the four fatalities to be the direct result of a powerful spell or curse invoked by an Egyptian priest over three thousand years ago? I’d be confined to an asylum

So what can we generalize about Victorian vampires? They are already dead, yet not exactly dead, and clammy-handed. They can be magnetically repelled by crucifixes and they don’t show up in mirrors. No one is safe; vampires prey upon strangers, family, and lovers. Unlike zombies, vampires are individualists, seldom traveling in packs and never en masse. Many suffer from mortuary halitosis despite our reasonable expectation that they would no longer breathe. But our vampires herein also differ in interesting ways. Some fear sunlight; others do not. Many are bound by a supernatural edict that forbids them to enter a home without some kind of invitation, no matter how innocently mistaken. Dracula, for example, greets Jonathan Harker with this creepy exclamation that underlines another recurring theme, the betrayal of innocence (and also explains why I chose Stoker’s story “Dracula’s Guest” as the title of this anthology): “Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will.” Yet other vampires seem immune to this hospitality prohibition. One common bit of folklore was that you ought never to refer to a suspected vampire by name, yet in some tales people do so without consequence. Contrary to their later presentation in movies and television, not all Victorian vampires are charming or handsome or beautiful. Some are gruesome. Some are fiends wallowing in satanic bacchanal and others merely contagious victims of fate, à la Typhoid Mary. A few, in fact, are almost sympathetic figures, like the hero of a Greek epic who suffers the anger of the gods. Curious bits of other similar folklore pop up in scattered places. Vampires in many cultures, for example, are said to be allergic to garlic. Over the centuries, this aromatic herb has become associated with sorcerers and even with the devil himself. It protected Odysseus from Circe’s spells. In Islamic folklore, garlic springs up from Satan’s first step outside the Garden of Eden and onion from his second. Garlic has become as important in vampire defense as it is in Italian cooking. If, after refilling your necklace sachet and outlining your window frames, you have some left over, you can even use garlic to guard your pets or livestock—although animals luxuriate in soullessness and thus appeal less to the undead. The vampire story as we know it was born in the early nineteenth century. As

She took a step back and pointed the gun now squarely not at Jonathan Harker… But at Vlad Tepes Dracula.

Reverend Janos was the real Jonathan Harker, held in a church beneath a horror castle wall by a female monster.

I wondered if Jonathan Harker had felt like this much of a schmuck when he was taking his carriage ride to Dracula’s castle.

Of course the most popular area for vampires is in Transylvania, but we have our own stories. All through the Carpathian Mountains there are extraordinary tales. There is a tour, following Jonathan Harker’s route to Transylvania. I am sure you would find it most enjoyable.” Margaret leaned forward. “Do you believe there is truth to the stories?” “Mrs. Summers.” Raven showed her shock. “You don’t, do you?” Margaret’s face closed down, her lips pursed again belligerently. “I always have believed there is a grain of truth in nearly every story handed down through the ages. Perhaps that is what Mrs. Summers believes,” Mikhail said gently. Margaret nodded her head, relaxed visibly, and bestowed a benevolent smile on Mikhail. “I’m so glad we agree, Mr. Dubrinsky. A man in your position should certainly be a man with an open mind. How could so many people over hundreds of years tell such similar stories without some truth to the legend?” “A living corpse?” Raven’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know about the Middle Ages, but I’d notice if dead people started walking around, dragging off children.” “There is that,” Mikhail agreed.