Quotes from Anne Rice

Grief, she thought. It's a strange and a misunderstood emotion.

Also, I thought, I can always delay the murder. . . . I can let my mind have this company it craves and I can always kill him later on. But I'm sure you know such reasoning is false, because once we grow to love a person, we are not likely to want that person's death.

The blowing mist, filled with the light of the moon, was seeking to swallow the lamps of the heavens.

Maybe I'll obey the rules. Some of them, anyway, who knows? What are you going to do if I don't, by the way, and haven't I asked you this before?

At times I felt a huge exhilaration, a freedom from all falsehoods and conventions, all means by which a soul or body can be held hostage!

Alas, my being the James Bond of vampires isn't the whole issue. Vanity must wait.

We are witnesses with both too much and too little feeling.

I lived like a man who wanted to die but who had no courage to do it himself. I

It's blunders, people making blunders, whether it's raiding a village and killing all the inhabitants, or killing a child in a fit of rage. Mistakes. Everything is simply a matter of mistakes.

But complex and fanciful religions have been founded upon such simple and deceptive experiences, giving mythical names to vague entities, and creating an enormous vehicle for compounded superstitious belief. Have not these religions been more evil than good?

I like you both! And that's better than loving you, for that's expected, you know. But liking you, what a curious surprise.

He was so rapt in his thoughts that he did not hear anything much that Guido was saying, that lovely bubbling speech of Guido's when he was at last content. Tonio allowed it to pass over him, and now and then he would give a little gracious nod.

I'll write about my past but I won't talk about it. I'll turn it into art if I can, but I won't talk about it.

Do you know what it means to be loved by Death?

The great adventure of our lives. What does it mean to die when you can live until the end of the world? And what is 'the end of the world' except a phrase, because who knows even what is the world itself?

Delicately he put the tiny needle to its task upon the revolving record. A thin and rasping Vienna waltz poured forth from the metal horn. I laughed to see it, this sweet invention, set before them like an offering. Was the waltz like incense rising in the air? But

Pure evil has no real place. And that means, doesn't it, that I have no place. Except, perhaps, in the art that repudiates evil—the vampire comics, the horror novels, the old gothic tales—or in the roaring chants of the rock stars who dramatize the battles against evil that each mortal fights within himself.

Oh, it seems a sin to ask compassion of the dead, those who died in pain, those I couldn't save, those for whom I didn't have the right farewells

When you love coffee you abandon everything to that love.

Can't always be the living legend."-Louis

I saw the great sparkling orbs of his eyes, the tiny red veins that reached for the dark centers, that warm hand burning my cold hunger as he guided me to a chair. And then all around me I saw faces blazing, faces rising in the smoke of the lamps, in the shimmer of the burning stove, a wonderland of colors on canvases surrounding us beneath the small, sloped roof, a blaze of beauty that pulsed and throbbed.

You think he has no will of his own? You are a fool, Charlotte. Lie with him instead of me!' I laughed at her, and seeing the pain in her eyes, I laughed more. 'I should like to see it, you and your daimon. Lie there and call him to come now.

I picked up the corpse and dragged it down and down the winding steps of the tower, into the stinking dungeon, and threw it to rot with the rest there.

Poetry is truth... It is the highest truth, and eloquence is its attribute.