Quotes from Anne Rice

I put my mind at work on the tone of the voices near me, such sweet and pitiable voices. I picked out the boys by name and slowly made a count of them. Over half our little company, our splendid cherubic company, was in this abominable prison.

In you, he saw God's grace, because your soul is pure. You are young and tender and open like the moonflower to intake the light of the night. You hate us now, but you will come to see.

If I could, I'd deliver you from old age and death, from aches and pains, from the blandishments of ghosts, from the torment of your familiar, Goblin. I'd deliver you from heat and cold and from the arid dullness of the noonday sun. I'd deliver you into the placid light of the moon and into the domain of the Milky Way forever.

It was the man of memory and the man of visions that I knew as soon as I studied him.

Had I ever been that powerful creature who so dazzled many that he could slaughter a gathering of mortals and no one would dare accuse save in whispers?

America destroys her big houses. Some them don't even last a hundred years.

Luego, estando yo a punto de dormirme, la así con fuerza por la muñeca. —Ni se te ocurra marcharte de aquí sin decirme nada —le dije. —Átame a las columnas y entonces no podré irme —me susurró al oído.

They have been buried, nameless, beneath five centuries of time.

Deeply encased in snow, I couldn't move and couldn't see, save what my mind could see if I chose to use it, and wishing to die, I used nothing

Soy demasiado esclavo de mis propias obsesiones y de mi propia fascinación.

None of the Egyptian languages he'd ever spoken had a word for soul; he'd watched this concept evolve over the centuries after he left his kingdom, this concept of a vaporous version of self that connected one to higher purpose, a version of self that could depart the flesh, entering some disembodied realm, awaiting reunion with the body or traveling onwards into a vaunted afterlife.

Only the lightning was fearless of the legends that said some evil dwelt in Sugar Devil Island: go there and you might never come back.

For if there's one thing immortality never frees you from, it's grief.

Her lean face, with its well-shaped pale lips, broke into the freshest and most robust smile, as if neglect and pain had never gnawed at her.

Also there was something vampiric about rock music. It must have sounded supernatural even to those who don't believe in the supernatural. I mean the way the electricity could stretch a single note forever; the way harmony could be layered upon harmony until you felt yourself dissolving in the sound. So eloquent of dread it was, this music. The world just didn't have it in any form before.

It's how I exist and always have existed since I was taken out of mortal life by malicious and disciplined hands.

To feed upon the innocent is sublime, but leads inevitably to such a love of human life that the vampire who does it cannot endure for very long.

She liked all things that were sensual and which involved beauty.

I watched as the luminous child removed his left glove and laid his chill supernatural hand upon the forehead of the sleeping father.

Everything dressed in flesh can yield a dizzling beauty if you concentrate on it long enough, and his beauty leapt out without apology.

All comfort, all goodness, all hope was burning in this black figure which my eyes would not let go, even as it dwindled, and lost all perpetual form.

Oh, the thunder of ghosts and their aftermath. Let it distract me from Stirling Oliver in my lethal arms and the bloody bride lying on the bed.

I have another theory about the devil. There's more than one of them and nobody appointed much likes the job.

What could thesee words mean to her? They must have sounded like old poetry. How could I expect her to grasp what I had said.