There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
What makes Stoker's observation remarkable is that he offers no guarantee the light will endure or overcome—he simply asserts that you *are* light, not that you *might become* it or *should strive to be* it. Coming from the author of *Dracula*, a man intimately acquainted with darkness through his art, this becomes an act of defiant certainty rather than wishful thinking. When you're struggling through a difficult period—say, supporting a grieving friend or persisting at work after repeated setbacks—the temptation is to believe you're too small to matter, too tired to shine. Stoker insists otherwise: your existence itself, your presence in someone's life, constitutes an irrefutable luminescence.