Quotes from Anne Rice

Despair is so familiar to me; it could be banished by the sight of a beautiful mannekin in the window. It could be dispelled by the lights surrounding a tower. It would be lifted by the great ghostly shape of St. Patrick's coming into view. And then despair would come again. Meaningless, I almost said, aloud.

You'll sing a song of victory eternally, though there is none to be had.

I love you,' Marius whispered suddenly, passionately as a mortal man might. 'I have always loved you. I wish that I could believe in anything other than love at this moment; but I can't.

I think we are wise, we English speakers, to savor accents. They teach us things about our own tongue.

Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts.

I'd loved the satin lining of the box. I'd loved the shape, and the twilight act of rising from the dead. But no more Ã¢â'¬Â¦ 

Of course there is a way to stop the rampant spread of beauty. It has to do with regimentation, conformity, assemblyline aesthetics, and the triumph of the functional over the haphazard.

The second thing I believe is that all of us would be human again if we could.

There is nothing under the sun…nor under the moon, no entity of intellect, that does not have to believe something about itself, something about its purpose, the reason for its suffering, its destiny.

I explained that often when we revealed ourselves to mortals we drove them mad—for we were unnatural beings, and yet we did not know anything about the existence of God or the Devil. In sum, we were like a religious vision without revelation. A mystic experience, but without a core of truth.

New Orleans, city of roaches, city of decay, city of our family, and of happy, happy people.

I drank, sucking the blood out of the holes, experiencing for the first time since infancy the special pleasure of sucking nourishment, the body focused with the mind upon one vital source.

People played with fact and fancy. Waitresses wrote novels at night that would make them famous. Laborers fell in love with naked movie queens in rented cassette films. The rich wore paper jewelry, and the poor bought tiny diamonds. And princesses sallied forth onto the Champs Elysées in carefully faded rags.

Dear Reader, he switched human bodies before I made him a vampire, worry no more. It has nothing to do with this story.

Drink. she whispered, drawing nearer. Drink. she held the soft, tender flesh of the wrist towards me. No. I know what to do; haven't I done it in the past? I said to her.

It will be under the name David Talbot." "My clothes. There's a stash of them here under the name Isaac Rummel. Just a suitcase or two, and some coats. It's really winter, isn't it?" I gave him the key to the room. This was humiliating. Rather like making a servant of him. Perhaps he'd change his mind and put our new lodgings under the name of Renfield.

Some of us are infinitely better at being miserable than happy.

I can't help being a gorgeous fiend. It's just the card I drew. The bastard monster who made me what I am picked me on account of my good looks. That's the long and short of it. And accidents like that occur all the time.

Ah! I had been screaming. I realized it. Lots of mortals around me, high up in the night, were telling me to be quiet.

Look, let me tell you something, Satan, or whoever you are." "Don't use that name, I hate it." "That's likely to make me pepper my speeches with it." "My name is Memnoch," he said calmly, with a small pleading gesture. "Memnoch the Devil.

You don't have to take upon yourself the burden of murder or madness to be free of this place. Surly there must be other ways.

Goodbye, darling, would I could leave you with something, some little thing...' 'You leave me with all I'll ever need,' she said softly. There was resignation in her voice. 'You leave me with some hours that other women must make up or read about in stories.

And money you have, Rose. Plenty of it. And time. And if time can't give us freedom to do what we want, what good is time?

The edge of sleep can be such a precious time.