In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A table in the centre was littered with English magazines and newspapers, though none of them were of very recent date. The books were of the most varied kind—history, geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology, law—all relating to England and English life and customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the London Directory, the "Red" and "Blue" books, Whitaker's Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and—it somehow gladdened my heart to see it—the Law List.
you know, if Dracula wasn't the worst this could have all gone very Beauty and the Beast, but no
"But, Count," I said, "you know and speak English thoroughly!"
this obviously wouldn't work for narrative purposes but I would find it extremely amusing if Dracula actually was terrible at English and Jonathan Harker, in his continuing quest to be the most oblivious person alive, kept chalking up every horrific thing to come as being the result of the language barrier
I have been so long master that I would be master still—or at least that none other should be master of me.
"You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand."
Mr. Harker are you familiar with the story of Bluebeard
I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay.
I will not use the "Hah! Gaaaaay!" gif again, I will not use the "Hah! Gaaaaay!" gif again, I will not.
You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us
Dracula is the worst and I love it.
