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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.

-Anne Rice

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Let Tears Gather In

Anne Rice

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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.

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I Assume I Don't Need An Introduction.

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

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

As A Child, I Saw This Beautiful Film, Dracula's Daughter, And It Was With Gloria Holden And Was A Sequel To The Original Dracula. It Was All About This Beautiful Daughter Of Dracula Who Was An Artist In London, And She Felt Drinking Blood Was A Curse. It Had Beautiful, Sensitive Scenes In It, And That Film Mesmerized Me. It Established To Me What Vampires Werethese Elegant, Tragic, Sensitive People. I Was Really Just Going With That Feeling When Writing Interview With The Vampire. I Didn't Do A Lot Of Research.

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.

It Was As If When I Looked Into His Eyes I Was Standing Alone On The Edge Of The World...on A Windswept Ocean Beach. There Was Nothing But The Soft Roar Of The Waves.

Sometimes Fear Is A Warning. It's Like Someone Putting A Hand On Your Shoulder And Saying Go No Farther.

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.

I Love New Orleans Physically. I Love The Trees And The Balmy Air And The Beautiful Days. I Have A Beautiful House Here.

Because I Show You My Pain, I Do Not Of Necessity Love You.

I Like To Read Things I've Read Before. It's Like Listening Over And Over To Your Favorite Song.

Some Mysteries Are Simply Irresistible,” She Said. “they Have Components That Alter A Life.

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 There Is A Modern Temper. The Authority Figures We Revered In The Past Are All Up For Grabs - They're Gone. We Are Groping For Meaning In A World Where Some Of Our Gods Have Died. We're Asking Ourselves, 'who Is Our True Brother And Sister, Where Is Our True Home?' The Modern Tempter Is Our Struggle To Lead Meaningful Lives, And Even If We Don't Believe In Religion, We Can Reach Down And Hold On To Our Core Values For Guidance.

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.

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

I Had Many Wonderful Experiences, Received Beautiful Letters, And My Christian Books Received Substantive And Thoughtful Reviews. But There Was Always Argument, Dispute, Questions As To What I "really" Believed, Lectures From Here And There On "the Real Truth," Etc.

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.

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

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

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

I'm Definitely More Influenced By European Writers Than I Am By American Writers, There's No Doubt About That.

European Countries

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

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

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.

Cities Have Distinct Personalities. It's A Matter Of Knowing It.

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

Suppose Death Had A Heart To Love And To Release You, To Whom Would He Turn This Passion, Would You Chose A Person From The Crowd There. A Person To Suffer As You Suffer.

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

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.

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

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

I Stumble Through A Carnival Of Horrors

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.

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

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.

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

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

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.

Life Itself Must Be Founded Upon The Infinite Possibility For Choice And Accident. And If We Cannot Prove That It Is, We Must Believe That It Is. We Must Believe That We Can Change, That We Can Control, That We Can Direct Our Own Destinies.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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Do You Know What It Means To Be Loved By Death?... Do You Know What It Means To Have Death Know Your Name?

The Human Heart Is My School.

Very Few Beings Really Seek Knowledge In This World. Mortal Or Immortal, Few Really Ask. On The Contrary, They Try To Wring From The Unknown The Answers They Have Already Shaped In Their Own Minds.

Yet I Saw Crypts When I Looked At Him, And I Heard The Beat Of Kettledrums. I Saw Torchlit Fields Where I Had Never Been, Heard Vague Incantations, Felt The Heat Of Raging Fires On My Face. And They Didn't Come Out Of Him, These Visions. Rather I Drew Them Out On My Own. Yet I Never Had Nicolas, Mortal Or Immortal, Been So Alluring. Never Had Gabrielle Held Me So In Thrall. Dear God, This Is Love. This Is Desire. And All My Past Amours Have Been But The Shadow Of This." — Lestat De Lioncourt

I Do Not Read The Ancient Languages, But I Am Beginning To Study Greek.

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What I Did Was Take The Jesus Of The Gospels, The Son Of God, The Son Of The Virgin Mary, And Sought To Make Him Utterly Believable, A Vital Breathing Character.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

Every Moment Must Be First Known And Then Savored.

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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.

I Will Write Things, He Was Thinking. I Will Write Something Meaningful And Wonderful Someday. I Can Do That. And I'll Dedicate It To You Because You're The First Person Who Ever Made Me Think I Could.

… In The Relentless And Meaningless Manner One Searches For Something In A Nightmare, Coming On Doors That Won’t Open Or Drawers That Won’t Shut, Struggling Over And Over Against The Same Meaningless Thing, Not Knowing Why The Effort Seems So Desperate, Why The Sudden Sight Of A Chair With A Shawl Thrown Over It Inspires The Mind With Horror.

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

Sleep Is Your Friend. Dreams Are Your Unwelcome Guests.

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

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I Do Want To Go Another Way - To Write Something Completely Different.

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

I Grabbed Her Ankle And Kissed It, And When I Looked Up I Saw Her Chin And Her Eyelashes As She Threw Back Her Head And Laughed.

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?

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

I Don't Believe In Anything, Mother," I Said. "you Told Armand Long Ago That You Believe You'll Find Answers In The Great Jungles And Forests; That The Stars Will Finally Reveal A Vast Truth. But I Don't Believe In Anything. And That Makes Me Stronger Than You Think

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

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

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.

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The Atheism And Nihilism Of My Earlier Years Now Seems Shallow, And Even A Bit Cocky.

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.

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.

Evil Is Just A Point Of View

Perhaps This Is The Only Real Evil Left.

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

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.

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

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

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?

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.

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.

Re-telling The Christian Story Is The Essence Of My Vocation. That Has Been Going On Since The Evangelists In One Form Or Another.

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.

Maybe A New Religion Will Rise Now. Maybe Without It, Man Will Crumble In Cynicism And Selfishness Because He Really Needs His Gods.

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.

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

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

It Was Over Now, And The Meaningless World Was Tolerable And Need Not Be Explained. And Never Would It Be, And How Foolish I Had Ever Been To Think So.

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

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

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

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

Asking Questions

I Am Not Times Fool, Nor A God Hardened By The Millennia; I Am Not The Trickster In The Black Cape Nor The Sorrowful Wanderer. I Have A Conscience. I Know Right From Wrong I Know What I Do And Yes, I Do It. I Am The Vampire Lestat. That's Your Answer Do With It As You Will.

I Lived Like A Man Who Wanted To Die But Who Had No Courage To Do It Himself.

The Nra Disgraced Itself This Morning With A Self-serving Press Event In Which They Demonized The Media And The Entertainment Industry For Gun Violence In America, And Advocated A National Data Base For All Mentally Ill Persons. They Apparently Want Armed Guards In All American Schools, And It Seems, Armed Volunteers As Well. Shocking.

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.

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

You Know Nothing... And Suppose The Vampire Who Made You Knew Nothing, And The Vampire Who Made That Vampire Knew Nothing, And The Vampire Before Him Knew Nothing, And So It Goes Back And Back, Nothing Proceeding From Nothing, Until There Is Nothing! And We Must Live With The Knowledge That There Is No Knowledge.

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!

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.

Dear God, Help Me. Do Not Forget Me On This Tiny Cinder Lost In A Galaxy That Is Lost–a Heart No Bigger Than A Speck Of Dust Beating, Beating Against Death, Against Meaninglessness, Against Guilt, Against Sorrow.

I Never Lie," I Said Offhand. "at Least Not To Those I Don't Love.

Time Can Tick When There Is No Clock.

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

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

Be Kind. Always If You Have A Choice, Be Kind.

I Was The Vampire Lestat Again. I Was Back In Action. New Orleans Was Once Again My Hunting Ground.

We All Suffer Under A Curse, The Curse That We Know More Than We Can Endure, And There Is Nothing, Absolutely Nothing We Can Do About The Force And The Lure Of This Knowledge.

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

As The Roman Empire Came To Its Close, All The Old Gods Of The Pagan World Were Seen As Demons By The Christians Who Rose. It Was Useless To Tell Them As The Centuries Passed That Their Christ Was But Another God Of The Wood, Dying And Rising, As Dionysus Or Osiris Had Done Before Him, And That The Virgin Mary Was In Fact The Good Mother Again Enshrined. Theirs Was A New Age Of Belief And Conviction, And In It We Became Devils, Detached From What They Believed, As Old Knowledge Was Forgotten Or Misunderstood.

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.

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.

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.

I Was Good And Bad, But Never Wicked.

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

But Don't You See, All Human Decisions Are Made Like This. Do You Think The Mother Knows What Will Happen To The Child In Her Womb? Dear God, We Are Lost, I Tell You. What Does It Matter If You Give It To Me And It's Wrong! There Is No Wrong! There Is Only Desperation, And I Would Have It! I Want To Live Forever With You.

My Efforts With Hollywood Are Like Things Written In Water.

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

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.

Strong Women Are Absolutely Unpredictable.

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.

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.

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

You Reach Deep Down And Bring Up What Feels Absolutely Authentic To You As You Move Along With The Book, But You Don't Know Everything About It. You Can't.

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.

…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.

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.

Hell's Bells Ringing, My Secret Music.

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.

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

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

End Of The World

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.

... What I Fear In Writing Is The Safe Decision.

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 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.

My Body Is No Schoolboy.

Life Is A Tragedy, One Way Or Another. What Is Certain Is That You Die.

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

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

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

I Read The Old Curiosity Shop Before I Began Blackwood Farm. I Was Amazed At The Utter Madness In That Book.

Whipping Is Fifty Percent Show And Noise.

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

I Knelt And Prayed, And The Strongest Truth Came Over Me. Didn't Matter If God In His Heaven Was A Catholic Or A Protestant God, Or The God Of The Hindus. What Mattered Was Something Deeper And Older And More Powerful Than Any Such Image - It Was A Concept Of Goodness Based Upon The Affirmation Of Life, The Turning Away From Destruction, From The Perverse, From Man Using And Abusing Man. It Was The Affirmation Of The Human And The Natural.

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.

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.

I Was A Newborn Vampire, Weeping At The Beauty Of The Night.

If You Want To Be A Writer, Write. Write And Write And Write. If You Stop, Start Again. Save Everything That You Write. If You Feel Blocked, Write Through It Until You Feel Your Creative Juices Flowing Again. Write. Writing Is What Makes A Writer, Nothing More And Nothing Less.

Creative Juices

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

It's Not So," I Said. "and How Long Do You Think It Will Sustain You, Feeling And Seeing And Touching And Tasting, If There Is No Love? No One With You?

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

You Think I Live In The Past. You Don't Understand That I Actually Change With Every Era, I Always Have As Best I Can

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

He Had Grieved For Me, I'll Give Him That Much. But Then He Is So Good At Grieving! He Wears Woe As Others Wear Velvet; Sorrow Flatters Him Like The Light Of Candles; Tears Become Him Like Jewels.

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 Was No Point In Waiting Until The Next World. You Had To Do Everything Now, Every Kind Of Sin.

I Love The One Who Punishes Me Well.

Motivated Employees Are Crucial To A Company's Success.

But Death We Are, And Death We've Always Been.

You See,' [armand] Said, 'killing Other Vampires Is Very Exciting; That Is Why It Is Forbidden Under Penalty Of Death.

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.

The Most Difficult Novel I Have Had To Write In Terms Of Just Getting It Done Was The Vampire Lestat. It Took A Year To Write.

Invest In A Feather Duster - The Possibilities Are Endless.

I Felt Ravaged, And With Both Hands In A Fantasy I Reached Out For Her Figure As We Ran Together Through The Meadow Which Belonged Only To Us And To Which These Others Could Never Be Admitted."oh, Inocent Love," She Said Even As She Drank From Me, "oh, Innocent Innocent Love."

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

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 Enjoy The Web Site A Lot And I Like Being Able To Talk To My Readers. I've Always Had A Very Close Relationship With Them.

I Cannot Mislead People Into Believing That I Support Organized Religion. In Jesus' Name, I Cannot Be Complicit With Many Of The Things Organized Religion Does.

You Are Someone Worth Loving

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.

But The Sky Was Never Quite The Same Shade Of Blue Again.

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

The Vampires Have Always Been Metaphors For Me. They've Always Been Vehicles Through Which I Can Express Things I Have Felt Very, Very Deeply.

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.

Say What You Will To The Force That Governs The Universe. Perhaps We'll Call It Into Being, And It Will Yet Love Us As We Love It.

One Moment The World Is As It Is. The Next, It Is Something Entirely Different. Something It Has Never Been Before.

We Live In A World Full Of Accidents Finally In Which On Aesthetic Principles Have A Consistency Of Which We Can Be Sure. Right And Wrong We Will Struggle With Forever Striving To Create And Maintain An Ethical Balance. Right And Wrong We Will Struggle With Forever, Striving To Create And Maintain An Ethical Balance; But The Shimmer Of Summer Rain Under The Street Lamps Or The Great Flashing Glare Of Artillery Against A Night Sky – Such Brutal Beauty Is Beyond Dispute.

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

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.

Oh Lestat, You Deserved Everything That's Ever Happened To You. You Better Not Die. You Might Actually Go To Hell.

Drink From Me And Live Forever. Lestat De Lioncourt

All The Mortal World Is A Lethal Enemy During Those Hours Between Dawn And Dusk.

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

I Thought The Shining Was Just Absolutely Wonderful. Stephen King Reaches All Kinds Of People. In The Beginning He Was Just Dismissed Out Of Hand, Which Was Terrible.

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