Quotes from Anne Rice

Even the avowed atheist probably thinks that in death he'll get some answer. I mean God will be there, or there won't be anything at all.

Better they should run from me than not see me. Better they should know I was something monstrous than for me to glide through the world unrecognized by those upon whom I preyed.

A witch is a person who can attract and manipulate unseen forces

And there persisted in her a sense of Michael's dangerous innocence, his naivete, which seemed to her to be connected to his attitudes about evil. He understood good better than he did evil.

We are all born without our consent. Should it really be so thoroughly shattering to be reborn the same way.

We are a cruse of the shadows; we are a secret. We are eternal.

She was quite the reader of books, that I can tell you. She knew so much poetry. She was always quoting this or that verse in an off-handed manner. I try to remember the things she quotes, the poets she loved.

The old gods go into the sun, into the fire, or they meet with obliteration through violence, or they bury themselves in the deepest earth never to rise again. But the Mother and the Father go on forever, and they do not speak.

Not a day goes by, when I don't ask a cosmic question. Does life have meaning? Or is this all smoke and mirrors? Are we all doomed?

You think I'm a doll, don't you? You think I'm cute and made of poured wax and you'll stay as long as I stay.

In memory I went back to the days in Rome when I had been mortal, and there was my garden, the garden of the villa of my father, and I was walking in the soft grass and listening to the sound of the fountain, and then it seemed that all through time, the garden changed but never changed, and it was always there for me.

There are gaps in my education which no one could ever fill. But, they don't matter to me. I do not need to know science or algebra or geometry. Literature and music, painting and history-these are my passions. These are things that still, somehow in hours of quiet and lonesomeness, keep me alive.

They float upon the surface of the darkness in which I am drowning.

Who were the men who did this? Guido demanded suddenly. Tonio was putting on his cloak. He looked up as if already in deep thought. Fools, he answered, at the command of a coward.

Did all the answers lie beyond the open door? Is the future beyond the open door? For after all, why could this not become, in spite of everything, a mere chapter of her life, marked off and seldom reread, once she had returned to the outside world where she had been kept all these years, quite beyond the spells and enchantments that were now claiming her? Oh, but it wasn't going to be. Because when you fell prey to a spell this strong, you were never the same.

This is what love is, isn't it? It's not a thing for which you clear a certain space in your life. It takes over your life, and all else must be made to fit to it, or the result is endless grief or a willful numbness that results in the death of your spirit before your body. I have seen this truth in the eyes of Julie and Ramsey. And I see it in your eyes when I look at

I caught him as if he were the love of my young life, and unwound the wool from around the artery where I would feed. He begged me to stop, to name my price. How still my Master looked, watching only me, as the man begged and I ignored him, merely feeling for this large-pulsing irresistible vein.

What does it mean to die when you can live until the end of the world?

Out, out, brief candle." Such comforting remembrance can turn in an instant to agony.

He said at dinner last night, Not a day goes by, when I don't ask a cosmic question. Does life have meaning? Or is this all smoke and mirrors? Are we all doomed?

You long to be seen and approached and understood and to get into mischief, to stir everything up and see if it won't boil over and if God won't come down and grab you by the hair. Well, there is no God. You might as well be God.

Kinship. Could they guess how indescribably exotic that was after the barren, selfish world in which she'd spent her life, like a potted plant that had never seen the real sun, nor the real earth, nor heard the rain except against double-paned glass?

Why must I see him brought low like this when it had taken so many decades to cement my love for him forever?

It's only mercy I ask, that I go now to find hell, if there is a hell, or sweet oblivion which surely I do not deserve. If there is a Prince of Darkness, then I shall set eyes upon him at last. I shall spit in his face.