Quotes by Anne Rice

I drank, sucking the blood out of the holes, experiencing for the first time since infancy the special pleasure of sucking nourishment, the body focused with the mind upon one vital source.

And you are with us and one of us, and we are the people of the moon and the stars.

But I lived a lie. I lived it out of anger. This is what I am trying to tell you. I have lived lies. I have done it again and again. I live lies because I cannot endure the weakness of anger and I cannot admit the irrationality of love. Oh the lies I have told myself and others. I knew it yet I didnt know.

I hear nothing. I hear nothing, but what does it mean that I hear nothing? I walk in the cemeteries of this city at night and I hear nothing. I walk among mortals and sometimes I hear nothing. I walk alone and I hear nothing, as if I myself had no inner voice.

New Orleans, city of roaches, city of decay, city of our family, and of happy, happy people.

I had to have him, had to. Just the way I had to have everything I wanted; or had to do everything Id ever wanted to do.

And this lesson about mortal peace of mind I never forgot. Even if a ghost is ripping a house to pieces, throwing in pans all over, pouring water of pillows, making clocks chime at all hours, mortal will accept almost any natural explanation offered, no matter how absurd, rather than the obvious supernatural one, for what is going on.

Because, she said, that is what men would call it. They invented Satan, didnt they? Satanic is merely the name they give to the behavior of those who would disrupt the orderly way in which men want to live.

Ah, what broken creatures we are, and how we endure.

Heaven would be Hell in no time if every cruel, selfish, vicious soul went to Heaven.

Maybe we do go home, finally.

Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult.

Who has a right to tell me I have no gift, no talent, no passion ... he murmured. Why do people say those things to you when youre young? Doesnt seem fair, does it?No, darling, its not fair,she said. But the mystery is why you listen.

In the story of the prince and the frog, there’s always a frog. This story ... it has no frog.

You, know, the only thing I can be is a writer. Im absolutely unprepared for anything else. When youve lived the kind of life I have, you are good for nothing. Only writing can save you.

You see that old woman? That will never happen to you. You will never grow old, and you will never die.And it means something else too, doesnt it? I shall never ever grow up.

I was still sitting there, too unsure of myself to say anything, when Nicolas kissed me.Lets go to bed, he said softly.

Goddamn it, do it yourself. You’re five hundred years old and you can’t use a telephone? Read the directions. What are you, an immortal idiot?

I can’t help being a gorgeous fiend. It’s just the card I drew.

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.