"The Librarian: I think we have. You are Matthew Freeman. At least, that's the name you call yourself. You're one of the Gatekeepers. The first of them, in fact."

"The Librarian: No, I'm just the Librarian."

"Matt: I'm looking for Scarlett, Scarlett Adams. Has she been here?"

"I would take what you are given when you can, child."

"Scarlett: It was OK."

"Scarlett: Yes."

"Justin: You're going to love it here!"

"Ramon: I want to speak to the boy. Matthew Freeman. Is he here?"

"The Librarian: (equally surprised) This is the great Library. And it's very good to see you again!"

"Professor Chambers: Stay where you are! I have a gun pointing at you!"

"It's a Chinese restaurant."

"Did you see him? That boy who went past?"

"Maybe they're journalists. You're still a mystery. They could be after you."

"Ramon: I will show you when I am inside. Please, it is not safe for me out here."

"It's crazy, someone wouldn't blow up a restaurant to stop me meeting them."

"Richard: We can ask him to come back in the morning."

"Matt: What do you want?"

"Matt: We've never met..."

"I'm not sure."

"Ramon: From Lima. Please, are you Matthew? I am here because I want to help you!"

"I think we should separate."

"Richard: I'd say he's trying not to be seen. Why don't we get a good look at him?"

"The Librarian: I'm afraid not."

"He is a philosopher and a metaphysician, and one of the most advanced scientists of his day; and he has, I believe, an absolutely open mind."

"I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him."

"I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air."

"For life be, after all, only a waitin’ for somethin’ else than what we’re doin’; and death be all that we can rightly depend on."

"Despair has its own calms."

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

"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!"

"Though sympathy can’t alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable."

"Remember, my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker."

"Nothing is too small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and surmises. Hereafter it may be of interest to you to see how true you guess. We learn from failure, not from success!"

"I heard a heavy step approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back. 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. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without a chimney or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange intonation. "Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!""

"I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in, the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest."

"We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things."

"“Listen to them — the children of the night. What music they make.”"

"It is said of Mrs. Radcliffe that, when writing her now almost forgotten romances, she shut herself up in absolute seclusion, and fed upon raw beef, in order to give her work the desired atmosphere of gloom, tragedy and terror. If one had no assurance to the contrary, one might well suppose that a similar method and regimen had been adopted by Mr. Bram Stoker while writing his new novel Dracula."

"Seven years ago we all went through the flames. And the happiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured."

"A writer who attempts in the nineteenth century to rehabilitate the ancient legends of the were-wolf and the vampire has set himself a formidable task. Most of the delightful old supersitions of the past have an unhappy way of appearing limp and sickly in the glare of a later day, and in such a story as Dracula, by Bram Stoker, the reader must reluctantly acknowledge that the region for horrors has shifted its ground. Man is no longer in dread of the monstrous and the unnatural, and although Mr. Stoker has tackled his gruesome subject with enthusiasm, the effect is more often grotesque than terrible. The Transylvanian site of Castle Dracula is skilfully chosen, and the picturesque region is well described. Count Dracula himself has been in his day a medieval noble, who, by reason of his "vampire" qualities, is unable to die properly, but from century to century resuscitates his life of the "Un-Dead," as the author terms it, by nightly draughts of blood from the throats of living victims, with the appalling consequence that those once so bitten must become vampires in their turn. The plot is too complicated for reproduction, but it says no little for the author's powers that in spite of its absurdities the reader can follow the story with interest to the end. It is, however, an artistic mistake to fill a whole volume with horrors. A touch of the mysterious, the terrible, or the supernatural is infinitely more effective and credible."

"But we are strong, each in our purpose; and we are all more strong together."

"You think to baffle me, you—with your pale faces all in a row, like sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think you have left me without a place to rest, but I have more. My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already. And through them you and others shall yet be mine, my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah!"

"Denn die Todten reiten schnell—("For the dead travel fast")"

"The sun was almost down on the mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the snow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well. As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in them turned to triumph. But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan's great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat. Whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris's bowie knife plunged into the heart. It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight. I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never could have imagined might have rested there."

"The world seems full of good men—even if there are monsters in it."

"They whispered together, and then they all three laughed—such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of water-glasses when played on by a cunning hand."

"“He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all.”"

"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."

"One and all we felt that the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and form was only an earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to reign for ever."