Quotes from Anne Rice

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.

One moment the world is as it is. The next, it is something entirely different. Something it has never been before.

How pathetic it is to describe these things which can't truly be described.

In the spring of 1988, I returned to New Orleans, and as soon as I smelled the air, I knew I was home. It was rich, almost sweet, like the scent of jasmine and roses around our old courtyard. I walked the streets, savoring that long lost perfume.

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.

Be kind. Always if you have a choice, be kind.

I was a newborn vampire, weeping at the beauty of the night.

Oh to have you with me, to have you here, not to be alone, but to be with you, my beauty, you of all souls! You.

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!

I was good and bad, but never wicked.

Every moment must be first known and then savored.

Merciful death. How you love your precious guilt

We breathe the light, we breathe the music, we breathe the moment as it passes through us.

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

How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet.

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.

Don't be a fool for the Devil, darling.

Drink from me and live forever. Lestat de Lioncourt

As for oblivion, well, we can wait a little while for that.

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!

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 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.

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.

Memory was a curse, yes, he thought, but it was also the greatest gift. Because if you lost memory you lost everything.