I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times.

We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead.

I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay.

I am no longer young, and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth.

Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken.