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I Assume As A Child Jesus Had To Learn How To Do Carpentry, Learn Torah, Learn All The Things A Human Child Had To Learn. If He Was Human In All Ways Except That He Did Not Sin, This Must Have Been The Case.

-Anne Rice

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I Assume As A

Anne Rice

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I Assume As A Child Jesus Had To Learn How To Do Carpentry, Learn Torah, Learn All The Things A Human Child Had To Learn. If He Was Human In All Ways Except That He Did Not Sin, This Must Have Been The Case.

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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. The More You Understand, The More You Look, The Greater Is Your Enjoyment Of Life And Your Sense Of Peace. That's All There Is To It. Everything Else Is Fun And Games. If An Activity Is Not Grounded In "to Love" Or "to Learn" It Does Not Have Value.

Why Does Shame And Self-loathing Become Cruelty To The Innocent ?

For Several Long Moments We Remained Locked Together, And I Think I Covered Her Hair With Small Sacred Kisses, Her Perfume Crucifying Me With Memories.

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.

I Congratulate Myself On Not Having Arrived Into The World Until The Present Time. This Age Suits My Taste.

We Need To Stop Fighting Christian Against Christian. I Have No Time For Anything But Trying To Love Other People. That Is A Full-time Job.

Dickens Is A Very Underrated Writer At The Moment. Everyone In His Time Admired Him But I Think Right Now He's Not Spoken Of Enough.

I'm Speaking Of The Character Of Human Beings, Not What They Believe In. I'm Speaking Of Those Who Won't Accept A Useless Life Just Because They Were Born To It. I Mean Those Who Would Be Something Better. They Work, They Sacrifice, They Do Things..." He Was Moved By This, And I Was A Little Surprised That I'd Said It. Yet I Felt I'd Had Hurt Him Somehow. "there Is Blessedness In That." I Said. "there's Sanctity. And God Or No God, There Is Goodness In It. I Know This The Way I Know The Mountains Are Out There, That The Stars Shine.

Who Has A Right To Tell Me I Have No Gift, No Talent, No Passion ...' He Murmured. 'why Do People Say Those Things To You When Youre Young? Doesn't Seem Fair, Does It?' 'no, Darling, It's Not Fair,'she Said. 'but The Mystery Is Why You Listen.

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

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.

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.

When We Are Weary, We Speak Lovingly Of Dreams As If They Embodied Our True Deisres-what We Would Have When That Which We Do Have So Sorely Disappoints Us

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.

The Finest Thing Under The Sun And Moon Is The Human Soul. I Marvel At The Small Miracles Of Kindness That Pass Between Humans, I Marvel At The Growth Of Conscience, At The Persistence Of Reason In The Face Of All Superstition Or Despair. I Marvel At Human Endurance.

My Greatest Sin Has Always Been That I Have A Wonderful Time Being Myself

How Can So Much Beauty Hide Such A Bruised And Steely Heart, And Why Must I Love Him, Why Must I Lean In My Weariness Upon His Irresistible Yet Indomitable Strength? Is He Not The Wizend Funeral Spirit Of A Dead Man In A Child's Clothes?

The Young Know How Truly Difficult And Dreadful Youth Can Be. Their Youth Is Wasted On Everyone Else, That's The Horror. The Young Have No Authority, No Respect.

And This Lesson About Mortal Peace Of Mind I Never Forgot. Even If A Ghost Is Ripping A House To Pieces, Throwing In Pans All Over, Pouring Water Of Pillows, Making Clocks Chime At All Hours, Mortal Will Accept Almost Any "natural Explanation" Offered, No Matter How Absurd, Rather Than The Obvious Supernatural One, For What Is Going On.

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.

Perhaps I Fear Him Because I Could Love Him Again, And In Loving Him, I Would Come To Need Him, And In Needing Him, I Would Again Be His Faithful Pupil In All Things, Only To Discover That His Patience For Me Is No Substitute For The Passion Which Long Ago Blazed In His Eyes.

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

The Thing Should Have Plot And Character, Beginning, Middle And End. Arouse Pity And Then Have A Catharsis. Those Were The Best Principles I Was Ever Taught.

The World Doesn't Need Any More Mediocrity Or Hedged Bets.

I Was Influenced By The Medieval Theological Beliefs When I Presented Satan In Jesus' Dream As Unable To Figure Out Who Or What Jesus Is, And Unable To See The Future.

Give Me A Man Or Woman Who Has Read A Thousand Books And You Give Me An Interesting Companion. Give Me A Man Or Woman Who Has Read Perhaps Three And You Give Me A Very Dangerous Enemy Indeed.

We Would Make Our Heroes Shallow.... We Would Make Them Brittle. It Is They Who Must Remind Us Of The True Meaning Of Strength.

There Are So Many Books I Mean To Read, And Things I Mean To See.

Yes. To Write A Novel Is To Risk My Sanity. The Deeper I Get Into The Suffering And Conflict Of The Characters, Into The Very Situations And Thoughts And Feelings That Make The Novel Worthwhile, The Worse I Feel, And The More Likely I Am To Be Severely Depressed When The Book Is Finished. There Is No Avoiding This: It Is The Result Of Attempting To Tell All You Know, To Reach For The Stars, To Write What Matters.

Let The Flesh Instruct The Mind.

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.

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

Congratulations

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.

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.

I Don't Know Why One Author Writes Westerns While Another Writes Detective Novels. You Don't Know Why. You Go Where The Intensity Is. I Feel Most Comfortable Writing About Monsters. It's Possible That I Feel Like A Monster Myself. Or Maybe It's Because We All Have A Monster Inside Of Us, A Vampire, A Ghost, A Witch Or A Werewolf. You Do It Because It Works And It Feels Really Right And Authentic.

I'm Going To Keep On Dealing With The Supernatural In A Lot Of Ways.

Don't You See? I'm Not The Spirit Of Any Age. I'm At Odds With Everything And Always Have Been! I Have Never Belonged Anywhere With Anyone At Any Time!

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.

The Human Heart Is My School.

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.

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.

I Think To Feel This Happy Is To Be Miserable, To Feel This Much Satisfaction Is To Burn.

But During All These Years I Had A Vague But Persistent Desire To Return To New Orleans. I Never Forgot New Orleans. And When We Were In Tropical Places And Places Of Those Flowers And Trees That Grow In Louisiana, I Would Think Of It Acutely And I Would Feel For My Home The Only Glimmer Of Desire I Felt For Anything Outside My Endless Pursuit Of Art.

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

And Then It Was, That Grief And Pain Made Themselves Known To Me As Never Before. Note This, Because I Knew The Full Absurdity Of Fate And Fortune And Nature More Truly Than A Human Can Bear To Know It. And Perhaps The Description Of This, Brief As It Is, May Give Consolation To Another. The Worst Takes Its Time To Come, And Then To Pass. The Truth Is, You Cannot Prepare Anyone For This, Nor Convey An Understanding Of It Through Language. It Must Be Known. And This I Would Wish On No One In The World.

My Faith In Christ Is Central To My Life. My Conversion From A Pessimistic Atheist Lost In A World I Didn't Understand, To An Optimistic Believer In A Universe Created And Sustained By A Loving God Is Crucial To Me. But Following Christ Does Not Mean Following His Followers. Christ Is Infinitely More Important Than Christianity And Always Will Be, No Matter What Christianity Is, Has Been, Or Might Become.

For Always In Her There Was A Dark Place Full Of Despair And A Great Dividing Force To Make Meaning Because There Was None.

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

I Love The One Who Punishes Me Well.

It's An Awful Truth That Suffering Can Deepen Us, Give A Greater Lustre To Our Colours, A Richer Resonance To Our Words. That Is, If It Doesn't Destroy Us, If It Doesn't Burn Away The Optimism And The Spirit, The Capacity For Visions, And The Respect For Simple Yet Indispensable Things.

It Is Tragic That Many In America Think Of Us - Christians - As Being People Who Hate Others.

And Books, They Offer One Hope -- That A Whole Universe Might Open Up From Between The Covers, And Falling Into That Universe, One Is Saved.

The Fact That I Loved You Was The Greatest Lie I Have Ever Lived.

We Breathe The Light, We Breathe The Music, We Breathe The Moment As It Passes Through Us.

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.

Get Thee Behind Me, Tragedy.

He Had Never Expected Death To Be This Quiet, This Secretive, This Easy.

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.

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?

For Me, Places Have A Tremendous Impact. I Fall In Love With Places. All Of Life Seems Different In Different Places.

Falling In Love

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

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.

Heaven Would Be Hell In No Time If Every Cruel, Selfish, Vicious Soul Went To Heaven.

I Love You Still, That's The Torment Of It. Lestat I Never Loved. But You! The Measure Of My Hatred Is That Love. They Are The Same! Do You Know Now How Much I Hate You!

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

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

Locked Together In Hatred. But I Can't Hate You Louis. Louis My Love, I Was Mortal Till You Gave Me Your Immortal Kiss. You Became My Mother, And My Father, And So I'm Yours Forever. But Now It's Time To End It, Louis. Now It's Time To Leave Him.

I Have Lived Lies. I Have Done It Again And Again. I Live Lies Because I Cannot Endure The Weakness Of Anger, And I Cannot Admit The Irrationality Of Love.-marius

There May Be Writing Groups Where People Meet But It's Occasional. You Really Do It All At Your Own Computer Or Your Own Typewriter By Yourself.

Time Can Tick When There Is No Clock.

Louis: You See That Old Woman? That Will Never Happen To You. You Will Never Grow Old, And You Will Never Die. Claudia: And It Means Something Else Too, Doesn't It? I Shall Never Ever Grow Up.

A Singer Can Shatter Glass With The Proper High Note," He Said, "but The Simplest Way To Break Glass Is Simply To Drop It On The Floor.

Do We Have To Confess Our Loves To Everyone?" Asked Thorne Softly. "can We Not Keep Some Secrets?

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

Whipping Is Fifty Percent Show And Noise.

It Draws It's Strength, This Big Secret, From The Same Root From Which I Draw My Strength, Both The Good And The Bad, Because In The End, They Cannot Be Separated.

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.

I Am In Love With You', I Responded. He Laughed The Most Beguiling And Gentle Laugh. 'of Course You Are,' He Replied. 'i Understand Perfectly Because I'm In Love With Myself. The Fact That I'm Not Transfixed In Front Of The Nearest Mirror Takes A Great Deal Of Self-control.' It Was My Turn To Laugh.

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

Sometimes Dreams Show Me That My Writing Should Go Deeper. Dreams Have Not So Much Changed My Work As Deepened It.

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

I Can't Keep Up With Stephen King's Output.

The World Changes, We Do Not, Therein Lies The Irony That Kills Us.

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

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

I'm Fascinated By Almost Any Mythology That I Can Get My Hands On...

Mortal Beauty Often Makes Me Ache, And Mortal Grandeur Can Fill Me With That Longing...but Paris, Paris Drew Me Close To Her Heart, So I Forgot Myself Entirely. Forgot The Damned And Questing Preternatural Thing That Doted On Mortal Skin And Mortal Clothing. Paris Overwhelmed, And Lightened And Rewarded More Richly Than Any Promise.

In Spite Of All The Refinements Of Civilization That Conspired To Make Art--the Dizzying Perfection Of The String Quartet Or The Sprawling Grandeur Of Fragonard's Canvases--beauty Was Savage. It Was As Dangerous And Lawless As The Earth Had Been Eons Before Man Had One Single Coherent Thought In His Head Or Wrote Codes Of Conduct On Tablets Of Clay. Beauty Was A Savage Garden.

One Tiny Flame Could Make So Many Other Flames; One Tiny Flame Could Set Afire A Whole World.

I Want To Be A Saint. I Want To Save Souls By The Millions. I Want To Do Good Far And Wide. I Want To Fight Evil! I Want My Life-sized Statue In Every Church. I'm Talking Six Feet Tall, Blond Hair, Blue Eyes-.wait A Second.do You Know Who I Am?

As They Die, The Ones We Love, We Lose Our Witnesses, Our Watchers, Those Who Know And Understand The Tiny Little Meaningless Patterns, Those Words Drawn In Water With A Stick. And There Is Nothing Left But The Endless Flow.

I Claim Dickens As A Mentor. He's My Teacher. He's One Of My Driving Forces.

I Am The Vampire Lestat. I'm Immortal More Or Less. The Light Of The Sun, The Sustained Heat Of An Intense Fire-these Things Might Destroy Me. But Then Again, They Might Not.

The Spirit Who Inhabits Her Animates Us All. Destroy The Host, You Destroy The Power. The Young Die First; The Old Wither Slowly; The Eldest Perhaps Would Go Last. But She Is The Queen Of The Damned, And The Damned Can't Live Without Her.

Every Moment Must Be First Known And Then Savored.

Oh, My Darling, Wish You Were Here! And My Dark Soul Is Happy Again, Because It Does Not Know How To Be Anything Else For Very Long, And Because The Pain Is A Deep Dark Sea In Which I Would Drown If I Did Not Sail My Little Craft Steadily Over The Surface, Steadily Towards A Sun Which Will Never Rise.

The Old Gods Will Bring About Vengeance Not So Much Because They Exist But Because I Once Honored Them.

Revenge Is The Concern Of Those Who Are At Some Point Or Other Beaten. I Am Not Beaten, I Told Myself. No, Not Beaten. And Victory Is Far More Interesting To Contemplate Than Revenge.

Lestat: I Despise You! I Ought To Destroy You-finish What I Started When I Made You. Turn You Into Ashes And Sift Them Through My Hands. You Know That I Could Do It! Like That! Like The Snap Of Mortal Fingers, I Could Do It. Burn You As I Burnt Your Little House. And Nothing Could Save You, Nothing At All.

You Are Alone When Something Like This Happens. Doesn't Matter How Many People Love You And Want To Help You. You Are Alone. When Marchent Died, She Was Alone.

It Is Very Disturbing To See People Use Christianity And The Bible To Support A Certain Political Agenda, Especially When One Cannot Connect That Agenda With The Authentic Teachings Of Christ.

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.

The Earth Here Is Beautiful. And It Still Belongs To The Dead.

Consequently, If You Believe God Made Satan, You Must Realize That All Satan's Power Comes From God And So That Satan Is Simply God's Child, And That We Are God's Children Also. There Are No Children Of Satan, Really.

[...] So Important To Believe In A Concept Of Goodness, Even If We Make It Up Ourselves. We Don't Really Make It Up. It's There, Isn't It?" "oh, Yes, It's There," She Said. "it's There Because We Put It There.

And My Heart Beat Faster For The Mountains Of Eastern Europe, Finally, Beat Faster For The One Hope That Somewhere We Might Find In That Primitive Countryside The Answer To Why Under God This Suffering Was Allowed To Exist - Why Under God It Was Allowed To Begin, And How Under God It Might Be Ended. I Had Not The Courage To End It, I Knew, Without That Answer.

Everything We Do In Life, We Do With Certain Expectations.

Artists Are Meant To Be Madmen, To Disturb And Shock Us.

From My Stone Pillow I Have Dreamed Dreams Of The Mortal World Above. I Have Heard Its Voices, Its New Music, As Lullabies As I Lie In My Grave. I Have Envisioned Its Fantastical Discoveries. I Have Known Its Courage In The Timeless Sanctum Of My Thoughts. And Though It Shuts Me Out With Its Dazzling Forms, I Long For One With The Strength To Roam It Fearlessly, To Ride The Devil's Road Through Its Heart.

And He Would Listen, Making Only A Few Comments, Always Sympathetic, So That When I Left Him I Had The Distinct Impression He Had Solved Everything For Me.

I Think All Of Us Ordinary Mortals Tend To Mythologize People As Good-looking As You.

I Do Not Allow Fan-fiction. The Characters Are Copyrighted. It Upsets Me Terribly To Even Think About Fan-fiction With My Characters. I Advise My Readers To Write Your Own Original Stories With Your Own Characters. It Is Absolutely Essential That You Respect My Wishes.

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

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.

No Matter How Rudely Someone Treats You, Remain Kind. Walking Away At Peace With Yourself Is Worth It.

Many Christians Believe That The Vast Majority Of Those Created By God Will Burn In Hell For All Eternity. Many Christians Not Only Believe The World Will End Soon, But Are Looking Forward To It. I Must Walk Away From It All. In Jesus' Name.

When You Find Out There Is No Ultimate Good And Evil In Which You Can Place Your Faith, The World Does Not Fall Apart At The Seams. It Simply Means That Every Decision Is More Difficult, More Critical, Because You Are Creating The Good And Evil Yourself And They Are Very Real.

The Greatest Create Of Power You Have On Earth, Whether You Are An Angel, A Spirit, A Man Or Woman Or Child Is To Help Others.

You Were The Vampire In My Dream. My Perfect One.

Believe In Angels? Then Believe In Vampires. Believe In Me. There Are Worse Things On Earth.

I’d Thought I Knew What Beauty Was In Women; But She’d Surpassed All The Language I Had For It.

Lestat De Lioncourt

Making A Film, I've Learned, Can Be An Exhausting Process, Due To The Need For Backing, Distribution, Etc.

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.

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.

If I Am An Angel, Paint Me With Black Wings.

That Process By Which You Become A Writer Is A Pretty Lonely One. We Don't Have A Group Apprenticeship Like A Violinist Might Training For An Orchestra.

Everyone Is A Potential Naked Slave To You Once You Become A Trainer.

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

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

Truth Is A Risky Proposition. It's The Nature Of Mediocre Human Beings To Believe That Lies Are Necessary, That They Serve A Purpose, That Truth Is Subversive, That Candor Is Dangerous, That The Very Scaffold Of Communal Life Is Supported By Lies.

Don't Let The Old Story Repeat Itself Now. Arm Yourself With All That's Happened.

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.

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

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 Would Have Done Just About Anything For Him.

The Evil Of One Murder Is Infinite, And My Guilt Is Like My Beauty - Eternal. I Cannot Be Forgiven, For There Is No One To Forgive Me For All I've Done.

And When A Strong Man Is Sweet, Even Goddesses Look Down From Mount Olympus.

As If The Night Had Said To Me, ‘you Are The Night And The Night Alone Understands You And Enfolds You In Its Arms’ One With The Shadows. Without Nightmare. An Inexplicable Peace.

Your Quest Is For Darkness Only. This Sea Is Not Your Sea. The Myths Of Men Are Not Your Myths. Men's Treasures Are Not Yours.

Our Language Needs Endless Synonyms For Beautiful; The Eyes Could See What The Tongue Cannot Possibly Describe.

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

Something In Me Was Responding Now As The Audience Responded, Not In Fear, But In Some Human Way, To The Magic Of That Fragile Painted Set, The Mystery Of The Lighted World There.

First-person Narrators Is The Way I Know How To Write A Book With The Greatest Power And Chance Of Artistic Success.

One Will Hate You For Taking His Life, Another Will Run To Excesses That You Scorn. A Third Will Emerge Mad And Raving, Another A Monster You Cannot Control. One Will Be Jealous Of Your Superiority, Another Shut You Out... And The Veil Will Always Come Down Between You Make A Legion, You Will Be, Always And Forever Alone!

You Are Someone Worth Loving

Fear Is Only Good When You Have A Choice In Things.

Despair Was So Familiar To Me; It Could Be Banished By The Sight Of A Beautiful Mannikin In The Window. It Could Be Dispelled By The Spectacle Of Lights Surrounding A Tower. It Could Be Lifted By The Great Ghostly Shape Of St. Patrick's Coming Into View. And Then Despair Would Come Again.

Perhaps This Is The Only Real Evil Left.

I Saw Finally The Futility Of All These Gestures, That Witchcraft Is But A Matter Of Focus-that One Cann Apply One's Fierce And Immeasurable Energies To An Act Of Choice.

Don't Bend; Don't Water It Down; Don't Try To Make It Logical; Don't Edit Your Own Soul According To The Fashion. Rather, Follow Your Most Intense Obsessions Mercilessly. Only If You Do That Can You Hope To Make The Reader Feel Every Particle Of What You, The Writer, Have Known And Feel Compelled To Share."---forward To Kafka's Short Stories

When You Make His Sandwiches, Put A Sexy Or Loving Note In His Lunch Box.

My Body Is No Schoolboy.

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.

Thank God He Killed The Guy. Oh, Now, Wait A Minute. What Kind Of A Prayer Was That!

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

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

Don't Be A Fool For The Devil, Darling.

What Is Written Beneath This Heavy Handsome Book Cover Will Count, So Sayeth This Cover.

Let Tears Gather In Your Eyes. You Haven’t Tears Enough For What You’ve Done To Me. Six More Mortal Years, Seven, Eight…i Might Have Had That Shape!’ Her Pointed Finger Flew At Madeleine, Whose Hands Had Risen To Her Face, Whose Eyes Were Clouded Over. Her Moan Was Almost Claudia’s Name. But Claudia Did Not Hear Her. ‘yes, That Shape, I Might Have Known What It Was To Walk At Your Side.

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.

When We Love And Want Nothing But Good For That Person, It's One Of The Greatest Gifts We Possess.

Let The Spirits Witness: For Theirs Is The Knowledge Of The Future - Both What It Would Be, And What I Will: You Are The Queen Of The Damned, That's What You Are! Evil Is Your Only Destiny. But At Your Greatest Hour, It Is I Who Will Defeat You. Look Well On My Face. It Is I Who Will Bring You Down.

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.

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.

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

All My Life,i've Been Afraid Of Things, As A Child And A Woman Must Be. I Lied About It Naturally. I Fancied Myself A Witch And Walked In Dark Streets To Punish Myself For My Doubts. But I Knew What It Meant To Be Afraid.

It's An Awful Truth That Suffering Can Deepen Us, Give A Greater Lustre To Our Colours, A Richer Resonance To Our Words.

A Summer Rain Had Left The Night Clean And Sparkling With Drops Of Water. I Leaned Against The End Pillar Of The Gallery, My Head Touching The Soft Tendrils Of A Jasmine Which Grew There In A Constant Battle With A Wisteria, And I Thought Of What Lay Before Me Throughout The World And Throughout Time, And Resolved To Go About It Delicately And Reverently, Learning That From Each Thing Which Would Take Me Best To Another.

Obviously, A Writer Can't Know Everything About What She Writes. It's Impossible.

There Is A Horrifying Loneliness At Work In This Time. No, Listen To Me. We Lived Six And Seven To A Room In Those Days, When I Was Still Among The Living. The City Streets Were Seas Of Humanity; And Now In These High Buildings Dim-witted Souls Hover In Luxurious Privacy, Gazing Through The Television Window At A Faraway World Of Kissing And Touching. It Is Bound To Produce Some Great Fund Of Common Knowledge, Some New Level Of Human Awareness, A Curious Skepticism, To Be So Alone.

In The Name Of Christ, I Quit Christianity.

And I Realized That I’d Tolerated Him This Long Because Of Self-doubt.

His Blood Coursed Through My Veins Sweeter Than Life Itself. And As It Did, Lestats Words Made Sense To Me. I Knew Peace Only When I Killed And When I Heard His Heart In That Terrible Rhythm, I Knew Again What Peace Could Be.

I Am Deeply Discouraged By Catholic Bishops Who Say Catholics Cannot Support Same Sex Marriage In Our Secular Culture.

I Wasn't Sent Here To Find Angels! I Wasn't Sent Here To Dream Of Them. I Wasn't Sent Here To Hear Them Sing! I Was Sent Here To Be Alive. To Breathe And Sweat And Thirst And Sometimes Cry.

What Does It Mean To Die When You Can Live Until The End Of The World?

And What If I Never Go Of My Own Free Will? Will You Pitch Me From Some Window So That I Must Fly Or Fall? Will You Bolt All Shutters After Me? You Had Better, Because I'll Knock And Knock And Knock Until I Fall Down Dead. I'll Have No Wings That Take Me Away From You.

Ah, Come Now. I Look Like An Angel, But I'm Not. The Old Rules Of Nature Encompass Many Creatures Like Me. We're Beautiful Like The Diamond-backed Snake, Or The Striped Tiger, Yet We're Merciless Killers

An Evil For These Times Destined To Move Through The World In Handsome Human Guise.

How Pathetic It Is To Describe These Things Which Can't Truly Be Described.

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

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

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

I Like Mainly To Be Invisible, To Sort Of Drift Around Unseen In The World.

I Was Particularly Stunned By The Casting Of Cruise, Who Is No More My Vampire Lestat Than Edward G. Robinson Is Rhett Butler.

I Think Any Supernatural Hero Today, Whether He's A Vampire, Werewolf, A Resuscitated Mummy, Whatever He Is, Is Going To Have To Deal With The Fact That Scientists Are Going To Want To Catch Him And Study Him. His Big Enemy Is Not Going To Be Dr. Van Helsing Today, It's Going To Be The Doctor Who Wants To Put Him In A Lab And Get His Blood For What It Can Do To Cure Disease Or Grant Immortality.

Wasn't It His Right To Listen To Opera, Read Poetry And Adventure Novels, Go To Europe Every Couple Of Months For Some Reason Or Another, And Drive His Porsche Over The Speed Limit Until He Found Out Who He Was?

I'm Gentleman Death In Silk And Lace, Come To Put Out The Candles. The Canker In The Heart Of The Rose.

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

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.

The One Thing You Share With Every Mortal Is Death.

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

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

The Truth Is, Laughter Always Sounds More Perfect Than Weeping. Laughter Flows In A Violent Riff And Is Effortlessly Melodic. Weeping Is Often Fought, Choked, Half Strangled, Or Surrendered To With Humiliation.

Suffering Of Sentient Beings Is Like Decay; It Fertilizes The Growth Of Their Souls.

And I Loved This Moment For All It's Pain...we Seemed For A Moment Like Two Parts Of The Same Thing.

And So This Young One, This Young One Whom I Had So Loved, I Had To Forsake, No Matter How Broken My Heart, No Matter How Lonely My Soul, No Matter How Bruised My Intellect And Spirit.

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

Pride Is The Parent Of Destruction; Pride Eats The Mind And The Heart And The Soul Alive.

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Lewis B. Smedes

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