Quotes from Anne Rice

Pandora! How could you let such a thing happen? And no sooner had I asked such a question than I realized I was quarreling with her as I had done so often of old.

it again. I'm a perfect devil. Tell me how bad I am. It makes me feel so good!

How deeply I loved him, and how I didn't want him to know.

How will you protect the Sacred Core if you have no strength to fight those who oppose you?

I can see all the stories of my life. I can pick and choose from among them.

She was introspective when drunk, did a lot of singing and writing and dancing about during such periods, and demanded to be left alone.

He came towards Maharet, staring intently at her, at her smooth face which now bore no trace whatever of human life, the florid human eyes seemingly set within a sculpture.

Your words flow over me like warm water. They bring me comfort. I hunger for your images. I hunger for all you might say.

I had robbed myself of my own Child of the Blood by my splendid designs.

Her hair was pulled back to a bun on the back of her head. She was so beautiful she didn't need any makeup, but she had put some dark-violet eye shadow on her eyelashes and a dark color, like violet, too, I think on her lips. I knew that dark violet meant trouble.

The Empire was the world. All that lay beyond was chaos and misery and struggle and strife. I was a soldier. I could fight.

When he turned from his victim, I would see even blood teeming in him, and I would have given all the world to see him white again, my marble god, my graven Father in our private bed.

Those two were unconquerable, either divided or together, it did not matter.

Let my stories do what stories always do. Let them keep you from your darker dreams and from your darker journey. Let them keep you here.

Be old enough and patient enough for kinds of love, seasons of it, be quiet in your soul so that when happiness comes again, if it ever does, you will know.

Amadeo had once more been stolen from a way of life to be take to another unexplicable place.

I am The Vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less.

Aren't there gradations of evil? Is evil a great perilous gulf into which one falls with the first sin, plummeting to the depth?' " 'Yes, I think it is,' I said to him. 'It's not logical, as you would make it sound. But it's that dark, that empty. And it is without consolation.

I left the splendid city of Venice with her glittering palaces and I withdrew to the chilly mountain sanctuary, and I knew that the fate of Amadeo was sealed.

Rome swallowed things and made them Roman.

He adored me. And though my paintings terrified him, something in his deep soul allowed him to worship my seeming talent-the deftness of my composition, my vibrant colors, my graceful speed.

grand and magnificent assurances that Beethoven tried to make, it seemed, to all of us, that everything would someday be understood and this life was worth it.

He wanted the truth and knew he could not get it by hostile means.

He felt some visceral connection between what was happening on the screen and his own dreams and subconscious, and with his ongoing efforts to figure out the world in which he lived. And