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But I Still Did Not Realize How Mad She Was, And How Accustomed To Dreaming; And That She Would Not Cry Out For Reality, Rather Would Feed Reality To Her Dreams, A Demon Elf Feeding Her Spinning Wheel With The Reeds Of The World So She Might Make Her Own Weblike Universe.

-Anne Rice

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But I Still Did

Anne Rice

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But I Still Did Not Realize How Mad She Was, And How Accustomed To Dreaming; And That She Would Not Cry Out For Reality, Rather Would Feed Reality To Her Dreams, A Demon Elf Feeding Her Spinning Wheel With The Reeds Of The World So She Might Make Her Own Weblike Universe.

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I Hear The Birds Singing. Listen. I Hear Them In Their Cage. The Others-all Our Kind Who Know Of Her-they Think Of Her As Heartless, But She Wasn't Heartless. She Was Only Aware Of Things Which I Didn't Learn Till So Many Decades Had Passed. She Knew Secrets That Only Suffering Can Teach.

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I Would Have Done Just About Anything For Him.

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Amazing What The British Do With Language; The Nuances Of Politeness. The World's Great Diplomats, Surely.

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In These Last Few Days, We Were Close Because We Were Both Mortal Men. We Saw The Same Sun And The Same Twilight, We Felt The Same Pull Of The Earth Beneath Our Feet. We Drank Together And Broke Bread Together. We Might Have Made Love Together, If You Had Only Allowed Such A Thing. But That’s All Changed. You Have Your Youth, Yes, And All The Dizzying Wonder That Accompanies The Miracle. But I Still See Death When I Look At You. I Know Now I Cannot Be Your Companion, And You Cannot Be Mine

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…being An Atheist Required Discipline Very Like That Of Being Catholic. One Could Never Yield To The Idea Of A Supernatural Authority, No Matter How Often One Might Be Tempted. To Think That A Personal God Had Made The World Was To Yield To A Demonic And Superstitious And Destructive Belief.

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I Feel Like An Outsider, And I Always Will Feel Like One. I've Always Felt That I Wasn't A Member Of Any Particular Group.

Then, Are You Master Of Us All? You Didn't Teach Her That. Was She Supposed To Imbibe It From My Quiet Subservience?

I Am Afraid Of Death. I Believe Nothing, And Therefore Like Many Who Believe Nothing I Must Make Something, And That Something Is The Meaning Which I Give My Life.

I Have To Move Away From Organized Religion. The Toxic Confusion And Anger I Was Feeling In Church Had Become Too Great.

I Was Good And Bad, But Never Wicked.

Sweet To Think On It, That When We Are Last Weary Of All This World There Is The Rising Sun

That Is The Crowning Evil, That We Can Even Go So Far As To Love Each Other, You And I. And Who Else Would Show Us A Particle Of Love, A Particle Of Compassion Or Mercy? Who Else, Knowing Us As We Know Each Other, Could Do Anything But Destroy Us? Yet We Can Love Each Other.

My Efforts With Hollywood Are Like Things Written In Water.

Invest In A Feather Duster - The Possibilities Are Endless.

In A Way He Made Me Think Of A Child Doll, With Briliant Faintly Red-brown Glass Eyes - A Doll That Had Been Found In An Attic. I Wanted To Polish Him With Kisses, Clean Him Up, Make Him Evevn More Radiant Than He Was. "that's What You Always Want," He Said Softly... "when You Found Me Under Les Innocents," He Said, "you Wanted To Bathe Me With Perfume And Dress Me In Velvevt With Great Embroidered Sleeves." "yes," I Said, "and Comb Your Hair, Your Beautiful Russet Hair." My Tone Was Angry. "you Look Good To Me, You Damnable Little Devil, Good To Embrace And Good To Love.

My Life's Been Too Much Of A Self-created Vocation. And There Are Times When I Think I've Done Everything In The Name Of Defiance.

I Kept Glancing At Him And Away From Him, As If His Green Eyes Were Hurting Me. In Modern Parlance He Was A Laser Beam. Deadly And Delicate He Seemed. His Victims Had Always Loved Him. And I Had Always Loved Him, Hadn't I, No Matter What Happened, And How Strong Could Love Grow If You Had Eternity To Nourish It, And It Took Only These Few Moments In Time To Renew Its Momentum, Its Heat? -lestat

Evil Is A Point Of View ... God Kills, And So Shall We; Indiscriminately ... For No Creatures Under God Are As We Are, None So Like Him As Ourselves. God Kills Indiscriminately And So Shall We. For No Creatures Under God Are As We Are None So Like Him As Ourselves.

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Vampires Pretending To Be Humans Pretending To Be Vampires ... How Avant-garde!

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I Can’t Help Being A Gorgeous Fiend. It’s Just The Card I Drew.

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An Intoxication With Forbidden Knowledge In Which The Natural Things Become Unimportant.

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Whipping Is Fifty Percent Show And Noise.

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I Am Certain A Great Many Believers And Bible Readers Do Believe In Social Justice.

Come On, Say It Again. I'm A Perfect Devil. Tell Me How Bad I Am. It Makes Me Feel So Good!

I Wish We Had More Visible Christian And Catholic Leaders Who Talked About Love.

I Never Changed After That. I Sought For Nothing In The One Great Source Of Change Which Is Humanity. And Even In My Love And Absorption With The Beauty Of The World, I Sought To Learn Nothing That Could Be Given Back To Humanity. I Drank Of The Beauty Of The World As A Vampire Drinks. I Was Satisfied. I Was Filled To The Brim. But I Was Dead. And I Was Changeless.

People Who Cease To Believe In God Or Goodness Altogether Still Believe In The Devil. I Don't Know Why. No, I Do Indeed Know Why. Evil Is Always Possible. And Goodness Is Eternally Difficult.

When We Talk About Our Lives, Long Or Short, Brief And Tragic Or Enduring Beyond Comprehension, We Impose A Continuity On Them, And That Continuity Is A Lie.

And Then There Came The Pounding Of Another Drum, As If Another Giant Were Coming Yards Behind Him, And Each Giant, Intent On His Own Drum, Gave No Notice To The Rhythm Of The Other. The Sound Grew Louder And Louder Until It Seemed To Fill Not Just My Hearing But All My Senses, To Be Throbbing In My Lips And Fingers, In The Flesh Of My Temples, In My Veins.

I Had Wanted To Say That My Song Was Far Too Painful To Sing.

Who Knew That Better Than I, Who Had Presided Over The Death Of My Own Body, Seeing All I Called Human Wither And Die Only To Form An Unbreakable Chain Which Held Me Fast To This World Yet Made Me Forever Its Exile, A Specter With A Beating Heart?

Obsession Led Me To Write. It's Been That Way With Every Book I've Ever Written. I Become Completely Consumed By A Theme, By Characters, By A Desire To Meet A Challenge.

He Was So Excited By This Little Bit Of Intelligence That He Might Have Gone Off, Perplexed, Pondering For A Long Time. It Was Like Reading A Wonderful Sentence In A Book, And Not Being Able To Continue Because So Many Possibilities Were Crowding His Mind.

I Am An Unwilling Devil. I Cry Like Some Vagrant Child. I Want To Go Home.

I Love The World The Lord Has Created; I Love The Mountains, The Rivers, The Valleys, The Skies. I Love The Forests, The Fields, The Flowers. I Love The Mysteries Of Evolution And Dna And The Big Bang. I Want To Know The Majesties Of The Lord's Creation. I Cannot Close My Eyes To All This. I Cannot Turn Away From Science And Scientific Exploration.

I Don't Believe In Hell. The Idea That A Supreme Being Would Make Hell Is Ridiculous. An Eternity Of Pain That Results In No Learning, Reformation Or Rebirth Is A Nauseating Idea. It's One Of The Reasons I Left Christianity. I Simply Could Not Accept That Version Of God.

How Could Anyone Love Him? What Did You Just Tell Me Yourself About The World? Don't You See, Everybody Hates God Now. It's Not That God Is Dead In The Twentieth Century. It's That Everybody Hates Him! At Least I Think So.

In The Name Of Christ, I Quit Christianity.

It Was As If The Empty Nights Were Made For Thinking Of Him. And Sometimes I Found Myself So Vividly Aware Of Him It Was As If He Had Only Just Left The Room And The Ring Of His Voice Were Still There. And Somehow, There Was A Disturbing Comfort In That, And, Despite Myself, I’d Envision His Face.

Remember Always, He Said, That Nothing Is As Precious To Us As The Magnificent Gift Of Life. Let The Moon And The Stars Always Remind You Of This-that Though We Are Tiny Creatures In This Universe, We Are Filled With Life.

I Picture Heaven As A Vast Library, With Unlimited Volumes To Read. And Paintings And Statues To Examine Galore. I Picture It As A Great Doorway To Learning...rather Than One Great Dull Answer To All Our Questions

Old Truths And Ancient Magic, Revolution And Invention, All Conspire To Distract Us From The Passion That In One Way Or Another Defeats Us All.

In The Very Depths Of Hell, Do Not Demons Love One Another?

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Claudia... You've Been A Very Very Naughty Little Girl.

The Worst Takes Its Time To Come, And Then To Pass.

Would That Death Were Like This. Would That One Would Sleep And Sleep And Sleep Forever.

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You Make Me Miserable. You Really Do, I Want You To Know That. Much As I Love You, Much As I Need You, Much As I Can't Exist Without You, You Make Me Miserable.

You Look Good To Me, You Damnable Little Devil, Good To Embrace And Good To Love.

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I Know Nothing, Because I Know Too Much, And Understand Not Nearly Enough And Never Will.

Go Where The Pleasure Is In Your Writing. Go Where The Pain Is. Write The Book You Would Like To Read. Write The Book You Have Been Trying To Find But Have Not Found. But Write. And Remember, There Are No Rules For Our Profession. Ignore Rules. Ignore What I Say Here If It Doesn't Help You. Do It Your Own Way. Every Writer Knows Fear And Discouragement. Just Write.the World Is Crying For New Writing. It Is Crying For Fresh And Original Voices And New Characters And New Stories. If You Won't Write The Classics Of Tomorrow, Well, We Will Not Have Any.

Go Where The Pain Is, Go Where The Pleasure Is.

But Just Remember, Life Without Me Would Be Even More Unbearable.

I Would Die Rather Than Live Without You. I Would Die The Same Way He Died. I Can't Bear You To Look At Me The Way You Did. I Cannot Bear It If You Do Not Love Me!" -claudia.

I No Longer Represent Any Organized Religion. I'm Not Catholic. I'm Not Christian. I'm Saying This Because I Have To Be An Outsider For Christ.

We Are Predators, Whose All-seeing Eyes Were Meant To Give Them Detachment.

Evil Is A Point Of View.

Don't You See? It Is A New Age. It Requires A New Evil. And I Am That New Evil.

Oh To Have You With Me, To Have You Here, Not To Be Alone, But To Be With You, My Beauty, You Of All Souls! You.

I Resolved To Move Just A Little Bit More Slowly Through The World, To Look Around Myself With Greater Care, And To Try To Remain Conscious Of All That Was Going On Around Me At All Times.

Should We Put Out The Light? And Then Put Out The Light. But Once Put Out Thy Light, I Cannot Give It Vital Breath Again. It Needs Must Wither.

The Highest Truths A Person Could Discover Were Rooted In The Natural World.

The Only Power That Exists Is Inside Ourselves.

Inspiring Writing

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Aren't There Gradations Of Evil? Is Evil A Great Perilous Gulf Into Which One Falls With The First Sin, Plummeting To The Depth?

When I'm Writing, The Darkness Is Always There. I Go Where The Pain Is.

People Write To Me All The Time To Tell Me That "homosexuality Is An Abomination." They Base This On A Quote In Leviticus. I Think The Bible Has Proved To Be A Very Mysterious And Dangerous Document.

I Don't Like Myself You Know. I Love Myself. I'm Devoted To Myself Till My Dying Day. But I Don't Like Myself.

It's So Easy To Wish For Death When Nothing's Wrong With You! It's So Easy To Fall In Love With Death, And I've Been All My Life, And Seen It's Most Faithful Worshippers Crumble In The End, Screaming Just To Live, As If All The Dark Veils And The Lillies And The Smell Of Candles, And Grandiose Promises Of The Grave Meant Nothing. I Knew That. But I Always Wished I Was Dead. It Was A Way To Go On Living

Falling In Love

I Can't Believe The World Was Created In Six Days. I Do Not Take Genesis Or Revelation Literally. I Am Out. I Am Alone. I Am An Outsider For Christ. I Will Study My Bible, And Pray To God In Private And Alone. I Have No Other Choice.

There Is One Purpose To Life And One Only: To Bear Witness To And Understand As Much As Possible Of The Complexity Of The World- Its Beauty, Its Mysteries, Its Riddles.

Roman Influence Seeds Itself, Sprouting Mighty Oaks Right Through The Modern Forest Of Computers, Digital Disks, Microviruses And Space Satellites.

I Loved Words. I Love To Sing Them And Speak Them And Even Now, I Must Admit, I Have Fallen Into The Joy Of Writing Them.

In The Chapel You Prayed To Be A Saint And Now I Will Make You A God.

Without Memory There Can Be No Insight. Without Love, There Can Be No Appreciation.

Memnoch The Devil Happen To Be My Favorite Of All The Vampire Chronicles.

What Does All This Mean Finally, I Kept Asking Like A College Kid. Why Does It Make Me Want To Cry? Maybe It’s That We Are All Outsiders, We Are All Making Our Own Unusual Way Through A Wilderness Of Normality That Is Just A Myth.

But All Morality Is Of Necessity Shaped By Context. I'm Not Talking Relativism, No. To Ignore The Context Of A Decision Is In Fact Immoral.

I Was Obsessed With Religious Questions, The Basics: Why Are We Here? Why Is The World So Beautiful?

Oh, But When Love Is Reached Through Suffering, It Has A Power It Can Never Gain Through Innocence.

Maybe That's What Hell Is. You Go Mad. And All Your Demons Come And Get You Just As Fast As You Can Think Them Up.

To Be Godless Is Probably The First Step To Innocence," He Said, "to Lose The Sense Of Sin And Subordination, The False Grief For Things Supposed To Be Lost." So By Innocence You Mean Not An Absence Of Experience, But An Absence Of Illusions." An Absence Of Need For Illusions," He Said. "a Love Of And Respect For What Is Right Before Your Eyes.

I Never Knew What Life Was Until It Ran Out In A Red Gush Over Any Lips, My Hands!

To Really Ask Is To Open The Door To The Whirlwind. The Answer May Annihilate The Question And The Questioner.

I Tell You, We Would Be Hard Put To Determine What Is More Evil -- Religion Or The Pure Idea. The Intervention Of The Supernatural Or The Elegant Abstract Solution! Both Have Bathed This Earth In Suffering; Both Have Brought The Human Race Literally And Figuratively To Its Knees.

I Believe In The Biblical Documents Supporting Jesus. But I Have No Illusions About Them. I Think They Contain Many Flaws, Scribal Errors, And So Forth And They Are Only Partial Or Fragmentary.

Don't Be A Pawn In Somebody's Game. Find The Attitude Which Gives You The Maximum Strength And The Maximum Dignity, No Matter What Else Is Going On

Do You Know What I Think About Crying? I Think Some People Have To Learn To Do It. But Once You Learn, Once You Know How To Really Cry, There's Nothing Quite Like It. I Feel Sorry For Those Who Don't Know The Trick. It's Like Whistling Or Singing.

Goodnight Sweet Prince, May Flights Of Devils Wing You To Your Rest.

Keep Your Secrets Keep Your Silence It Is A Better Gift Than Truth

The Whole Theme Of Interview With The Vampire Was Louis's Quest For Meaning In A Godless World. He Searched To Find The Oldest Existing Immortal Simply To Ask, What Is The Meaning Of What We Are?

Curses Of Vanished Elders Echoed Down On Me; Too Pretty, Too Soft, Too Pale, Eyes Far Too Full Of The Devil, Ah, That Devilish Smile

I Know Nothing Of God Or The Devil. I Have Never Seen A Vision Nor Learned A Secret That Would Damn Or Save My Soul.

I Stumble Through A Carnival Of Horrors

The Vampire Is An Outsider. He's The Perfect Metaphor For Those Things. He's Someone Who Looks Human And Sounds Human, But Is Not Human, So He's Always On The Margins.

I Will Be The Vampire Lestat For All To See. A Symbol, A Freak Of Nature - Something Loved, Something Despised All Of Those Things. I Tell You I Can't Give It Up. I Can't Miss. And Quite Frankly I Am Not In The Least Afraid." - Lestat, The Vampire Lestat, P. 532

His Back Was Turned To The End Of The World And The End Of The World Was Quiet.

End Of The World

Because," She Said, "that Is What Men Would Call It. They Invented Satan, Didn't They? Satanic Is Merely The Name They Give To The Behavior Of Those Who Would Disrupt The Orderly Way In Which Men Want To Live.

Whatever Will Happen Will Happen, But Choose Your Companions With Care. Choose Them Because You Like To Look At Them And You Like The Sound Of Their Voices, And They Have Profound Secrets In Them That You Wish To Know. In Other Words, Choose Them Because You Love Them. Otherwise You Will Not Be Able To Bear Their Company For Very Long.

Lestat And Louie Feel Sorry For Vampires That Sparkle In The Sun. They Would Never Hurt Immortals Who Choose To Spend Eternity Going To High School Over And Over Again In A Small Town ---- Anymore Than They Would Hurt The Physically Disabled Or The Mentally Challenged. My Vampires Possess Gravitas. They Can Afford To Be Merciful.

The Fans, The Vampire Groupies, Love The Idea Of This Androgynous, Preternatural Figure Stalking The Night, And Craving Aesthetic Pleasure Just As He Craves Blood, Wearing Only The Best Velvet Clothes, And Savoring Red Roses.

What If I Could Give You Your Life Back; Pluck Out The Pain; And Give You A World Of Unimaginable Beauty That Would Be For All Time.

We Have Such A Terrible, Terrible Misconception Of Science. We Think It Involves The Definite, The Precise, The Known; It Is A Horrid Series Of Gates To An Unknown As Vast Of The Universe; Which Means Endless.

That Was My Nature - Going From Temptation After Temptation, Not To Sin, But To Be Redeemed.

You Can Look At The New York Times Bestseller List And You Can Be Pretty Sure That The Writers On That List Don't Know Each Other Very Well.

Handsome Enough' Is This Grim Reaper, Who Can Snuff All These 'brief Candles,' Every Fluttering Soul Sucking The Air, From This Hall" -the Vampire Lestat

To Write Something, You Have To Risk Making A Fool Of Yourself.

God, Why Didn't You Make Us All Dogs?

I Was In The Black Silence Of A Medieval Street, And Blindly I Followed Its Sharp Turns, Comforted By The Height Of Its Narrow Tenements, Which Seemed At Any Moment Capable Of Falling Together, Closing This Alleyway Under Indifferent Stars Like A Seam.

Time Can Tick When There Is No Clock.

None Of Us Really Changes Over Time. We Only Become More Fully What We Are.

Changes Over Time

All The Stories I Have Told You Are Finally As Useless As All Ancient Knowledge Is To Man And To Us. Its Images And Its Poetry Can Be Beautiful; It Can Make Us Shiver With The Recognition Of Things We Have Always Suspected Or Felt. It Can Draw Us Back To Times When The Earth Was New To Man, And Wondrous. But Always We Come Back To The Way The Earth Is Now.

Who Knows What The Hell A Government Is Or What The Hell A Government Does.

The Library Furnished Our Dreams, Helped Us Shape Our Ambitions, Made Up People Of Books And Ideas And Grand Designs.

Nothing In All The World Is So Nonsensical And Contradictory, Save Mortals, That Is, Who Live In The Grip Of The Superstitions Of The Past.

Advice To A New Writer: There Are No Rules In This Profession. Do What Is Good For You. Read Books And Watch Films That Stimulate Your Writing. In Your Writing, Go Where The Pain Is; Go Where The Pleasure Is; Go Where The Excitement Is. Believe In Your Own Original Approach, Voice, Characters, Story. Ignore Critics. Have Nerve. Be Stubborn.

We Have To Become Saints. We Have To Become Like Christ. Anything Less Is Simply Not Enough.

So Until We Meet Again, I Am Thinking Of You Always; I Love You; I Wish You Were Here...in My Arms.

Thinking Of You

Motivated Employees Are Crucial To A Company's Success.

I'm Always Looking, And I'm Always Asking Questions.

Asking Questions

There Are Too Many Other Inexplicable Things Around Us--horrors, Threats, Mysteries That Draw You In And Then Inevitably Disenchant You. Back To The Predictable And Humdrum. The Prince Is Never Going To Come, Everybody Knows That; And Maybe Sleeping Beauty's Dead.

Protect Your Voice And Your Vision. If Going On The Internet And Reading Internet Reviews Is Bad For You, Don’t Do It. … Do What Gets You To Write And Not What Blocks You. … Don’t Take Any Guff Off Anybody.

Oh, If The Moon Only Had A Secret, If The Moon Only Held A Truth. But The Moon Was Just The Moon.

My Own Funeral, I'd Like To Be Laid Out In A Coffin In My Own House. I Would Like My Coffin To Be Put In The Double Parlor, And I Would Like All The Flowers To Be White.

The Prince Is Never Going To Come. Everyone Knows That; And Maybe Sleeping Beauty's Dead.

I Allowed Myself To Forget How Totally I Had Fallen In Love With Lestat's Iridescent Eyes, That I'd Sold My Soul For A Many-colored And Luminescent Thing, Thinking That A Highly Reflective Surface Conveyed The Power To Walk On Water.

A Story Of Remarkable Simplicity And Charm. A Young Swimmer Invites Us Into Sea Off The Coast Of California Where Through Her Eyes We See An Entire Realm Of Creatures We Have Never Known So Intimately Before. Truly For People Of All Ages, Lynne Cox's Adventure With The Baby Whale, Grayson, Becomes A Parable And An Experience, Thanks Not Only To The Author's Great And Generous Spirit, But Through Her Immense Gift For Describing Nature.

As If It Were Our Very Birthright, Which We Could Not Come To Grasp The Meaning Of Until This Time Of Middle Life When We Looked On Only As Many Years Ahead As Already Lay Behind Us.

The One Thing You Share With Every Mortal Is Death.

What Is Fear After All? It Is Indecision. You Seek Some Way To Resist, Escape. There Is None.

Your Love To Others, And Their Love For You, That The Increase Of Love In Life Itself Around You, Is What Matters.

Writers, As They Gain Success, Feel Like Outsiders Because Writers Don't Come Together In Real Groups.

Congratulations

As For Oblivion, Well, We Can Wait A Little While For That.

I Left Christianity Because I Wanted To Be A Moral Person. That Is Why I Left. I No Longer Believed In Its Lies.

You Sense My Loneliness, (...) My Bitterness At Being Shut Out Of Life. My Bitterness That I'm Evil, That I Don't Deserve To Be Loved And Yet I Need Love Hungrily. My Horror That I Can Never Reveal Myself To Mortals. But These Things Don't Stop Me, Mother. I'm Too Strong For Them To Stop Me. As You Said Yourself Once, I Am Very Good At Being What I Am. These Things Merely Now And Then Make Me Suffer, That's All

I Was At A Loss Suddenly; But Conscious All The While Of How Armand Listened; That He Listened In The Way That We Dream Of Others Listening, His Face Seeming To Reflect On Every Thing Said. He Did Not Start Forward To Seize On My Slightest Pause, To Assert An Understanding Of Something Before The Thought Was Finished, Or To Argue With A Swift, Irresistible Impulse -- The Things Which Often Make Dialogue Impossible. And After A Long Interval He Said, 'i Want You. I Want You More Than Anything In The World.

My Conscience Is Killing Me, Isn't It? And When You're Immortal That Can Be A Really Long And Ignominious Death

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