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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.

-Anne Rice

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Yes. To Write A

Anne Rice

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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.

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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.

Ignore Any Loss Of Nerve, Ignore Any Loss Of Self-confidence, Ignore Any Doubt Or Confusion. Move On Believing In Love, In Peace, And Harmony, And In Great Accomplishment. Remember Joy Isn't A Stranger To You. You Are Winning And You Are Strong. Love. Love First, Love Always, Love Forever.

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

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

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I Didn’t Look To The Shore Much After This First Long And Memorable Glimpse. I Looked Up At Heaven And Her Court Of Mythical Creatures Fixed Forever In The All Powerful And Inscrutable Stars. Ink Black Was The Night Beyond Them, And They So Like Jewels That Old Poetry Came Back To Me, The Sound Even Of Hymns Sung Only By Men.

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

European Countries

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

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When I Realized That Reuben Was A Young Man Who Really Wanted To Be Taken Seriously, Because He Was Dismissed For Being Too Good Looking Or Because He Had Too Much Money - His Character Really Came To Life For Me. I Began To Understand That, And See That A Lot Of People Feel This Way - Misunderstood Because Of Their Talents Or Gifts Or Background.

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

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.

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.

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.

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I Assume I Don't Need An Introduction.

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That Morning I Was Not Yet A Vampire, And I Saw My Last Sunrise. I Remember It Completely, And Yet I Can't Recall Any Sunrise Before It. I Watched The Whole Magnificence Of The Dawn For The Last Time As If It Were The First. And Then I Said Farewell To Sunlight, And Set Out To Become What I Became.

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Perhaps This Is The Only Real Evil Left.

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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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

Sleep Is Your Friend. Dreams Are Your Unwelcome Guests.

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

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

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

Congratulations

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

My Efforts With Hollywood Are Like Things Written In Water.

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.

Phil Was Mumbling That Reuben Might Become A Writer After All And Writers Had A Way Of "redeeming Everything That Ever Happens To Them.

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

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.

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

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.

The Human Heart Is My School.

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.

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

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.

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

Garden Of Pain, I Need You. What Were The Songs Of Beasts To The Cries Of Sentient Souls?

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

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

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 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.

What I Have Always Wanted More Than Revenge Is To Bring The Other Person To Recognition Of The Pain They Caused, So They Essentially Say, "i Will Never Do That Again."

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.

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.

And What Constitutes Evil, Real Evil, Is The Taking Of A Single Human Life. Whether A Man Would Die Tomorrow Or The Day After Or Eventually... It Doesn't Matter. Because If God Does Not Exist, Then Life... Every Second Of It... Is All We Have.

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

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

The Only Power That Exists Is Inside Ourselves.

Inspiring Writing

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

You Have Made Me Ashamed Of The Wasted Years. You Have Made Me Acknowledge That No Darkness Has Ever Been Deep Enough To Extinguish My Personal Knowledge Of Love. And All Around Me In This World I See Evidence Of Love. I See Love. I See It In The Human Struggle. I See Its Undeniable Penetration In All That Humans Have Accomplished In Their Poetry, Their Painting, Their Music, Their Love Of One Another And Refusal To Accept Suffering As Their Lot.

Personal Knowledge

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

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

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

This Evil, This Concept, It Comes From Disappointment, From Bitterness! Don't You See? Children Of Satan! Children Of God! Is This The Only Question You Bring To Me, Is This The Only Power That Obsesses You, So That You Must Make Us Gods And Devils Yourself When The Only Power That Exists Is Inside Ourselves? How Could You Believe In These Old Fantastical Lies, These Myths, These Emblems Of The Supernatural?

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

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

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.

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

Lestat De Lioncourt

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

In The Name Of Christ, I Quit Christianity.

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 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.

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

My Heart Right Now Is Totally Connected To A Book Called The Servant Of The Bones, Which Is Not In Any Way Connected With Vampires Or Witches. It's About A New Hero, A Ghost, Who Really Doesn't Particularly Like The Job That He's Been Given. I'm In Love With This Hero And In Love With His Dilemma.

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.

Evil Is Just A Point Of View

Writers Write About What Obsesses Them. You Draw Those Cards. I Lost My Mother When I Was 14. My Daughter Died At The Age Of 6. I Lost My Faith As A Catholic. When I'm Writing, The Darkness Is Always There. I Go Where The Pain Is.

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.

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

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.

We Are Not Damned. We Never Were. Who Under The Sun Has The Right To Damn Any Living Breathing Creature?

When I Write Something, Every Word Of It Is Meant. I Can't Say It Enough.

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

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.

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

I Love The One Who Punishes Me Well.

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.

The Only Pain In Pleasure Is The Pleasure Of The Pain.

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

…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.

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

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 Can't Get Very Far Away From Christianity, I Can't Get Very Far Away From The Angels And The Saints. I Work Them In Always, In Some Way.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

We're Frightened Of What Makes Us Different.

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.

Anger Is Too Pathetic. Anger Is As Weak As Fear.

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

In The Name Of Christ, I Refuse To Be Anti-gay. I Refuse To Be Anti-feminist. I Refuse To Be Anti-artificial Birth Control. I Refuse To Be Anti-democrat. I Refuse To Be Anti-secular Humanism. I Refuse To Be Anti-science. I Refuse To Be Anti-life. In The Name Of Christ, I Quit Christianity And Being Christian. Amen.

Whipping Is Fifty Percent Show And Noise.

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

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.

Get Thee Behind Me, Tragedy.

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.

You Are Someone Worth Loving

Evil Is Always Possible. Goodness Is A Difficulty.

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

This Is A Lyrical Guide That Addresses The Deep Human Yearning To Make A Difference. It's Full Of Indelible Stories Reminding Us That, Yes, Helping People Is Hard-but It's Both Possible And Infinitely Rewarding. A Path Appears Offers Practical Steps That Any Of Us Can Take To Empower Others, And Ourselves.

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.

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

How Shameful. How Predictable! How Insipid. And How Sweet.

Being Liberated Means Reading What You Want To Read, And Fantasizing About What You Want To Fantasize About.

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.

...what Was The Good Of Being A Movie Werewolf? You Howled At The Moon; You Couldn't Remember What You Did, And Then Somebody Shot You.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

It Seems An Insult To The Night To Speak Of Purpose And Intent, When This Common Moment Is So Brimming Full Of Blessed Design Tranquility. All Things Follow Their Course.

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.

This Suffering, This Unspeakable Capacity To Bleed And To Know Pain And To Know Annihilation, Is What Has To Be Overcome In This World If Anyone Is To Reach God.

Stephen King In Many Respects Is A Wonderful Writer. He Has Made A Contribution. People In The Future Will Be Able To Pick Up Stephen King's Books And Learn A Lot About Who We Were By Reading Those Books.

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.

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?

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

So We Reach Into The Raging Chaos, And We Cling To It, And We Tell Ourselves It Has Meaning, And That The World Is Good, And We Are Not Evil, And We Will All Go Home In The End.

It Is Not Man Who Is The Enemy Of The Human Species. It Is The Irrational; It Is The Spiritual When It Is Divorced From The Material; From The Lesson In One Beating Heart Or One Bleeding Vein.

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.

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.

Strong Women Are Absolutely Unpredictable.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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!

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.

Evil Is A Point Of View.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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