Quotes from Anne Rice

You stare at anything long enough and suddenly it looks monstrous." She had in fact turned away from him to stare at the bowl of flowers in the middle of the table. Old tea roses, falling to pieces amid the baby's breath and fern and purple zinnias. And they did look absolutely alien, these things, the way that insects always do, and sort of horrible! What were these things, really?

No, but one can feel desperate at any age, don't you think? The young are eternally desperate," he said frankly. "And books, they offer one hope –that a whole universe might open up from between the covers, and falling into that new universe, one is saved.

Those clothes. Impossible. I mean, tomorrow night, as they say in the twentieth century, you will lose that sweater and those pants.

Look up at heaven and hell in the sky, for the stars are balls of fire suspended there by the angels.

and when I took my fingers down, there was the stain of the tears, tinged with mortal blood. And already there was begun in me the tingling of the monster that had killed, and would kill again

And Marie, a quiet person who said little ever to anyone, despised herself at such times for this natural inclination.

Rhosh, remember the being's skin, smooth, dark brown skin, like this one's skin, and the being's hair. The hair was the same, thick like this and with loose curls and the very same golden streak in it, only broader and on the right side of the head.

Behold, the Queen of the Damned," said his Maker twin as she presented to the others her long-lost sister. Thorne understood her.

the hair. Well, there is no God. You might as well be God.

Doll, doll,' I called her. That's what she was. A magic doll. Laughter and infinite intellect and then the round-cheeked face, the bud mouth.

You remember what I told you," she said as he approached the hook where she had placed his coat. "You move slowly, you do not really move like a woman, for if you moved so fast and so much as a woman, the illusion would be broken, the illusion is a complete lie. You move more slowly than a human creature, and you keep your arms close to your body.

He says things like the orchestra is generating a soul, a collective soul, an entity. I ask him what that means. He says consciousness generates soul.

If money can't buy you the freedom to do anything you want, well, what is the good of it?

A great fleecy cloud had released the moon, and high above us loomed the dark outline of the tower. One long window showed the pale sky beyond it.

In the beginning were the spirits.

We sleep, we doze, we meditate-we discover ourselves in our passions and our disasters, but also in our slumber, and in our dreams.

I love; therefore I am.

Don't be afraid. Just start the tape.

Stars filled every quadrant of the heavens. The moon drew her veil and then lowered it again, and the soft breeze made the pines shiver ever so slightly

He wasn't a living thing. He was a monster. A vampire was what he was, a blood-sucking corpse from the grave gifted with intellect!

Sé la música en tono menor de mi vida

It is the very nature of this world that all things are devoured and time is a mouth as bloody as any other.

It is perhaps worth remembering that we are all, as a species, prey to dreams and nightmares. Our art is built upon the irrepressible stream of images rising from a secret fulcrum that can never be trusted. And though these images can delight and amaze, they can also paralyze and terrify. There are times when we are shamed by the most fleeting savage fancy.

An artist, stealing paints from a store, for example, imagines himself to have made an inevitable but immoral decision, and then he sees himself as fallen from grace; what follows is despair and petty irresponsibility, as if morality were a great glass world which can be utterly shattered by one act.