Anne Rice
Anne Rice
Anne Riceis an American author of gothic fiction, Christian literature, and erotica. She is perhaps best known for her popular and influential series of novels, The Vampire Chronicles, revolving around the central character of Lestat. Books from The Vampire Chronicles were the subject of two film adaptations, Interview with the Vampire in 1994, and Queen of the Damned in 2002...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth4 October 1941
CityNew Orleans, LA
CountryUnited States of America
I like to read things I've read before. It's like listening over and over to your favorite song.
Garden of Pain, I need you. What were the songs of beasts to the cries of sentient souls?
I saw the Light,saw the myriad spirits flying loose up the Tunnel towards the celestial blaze, the Tunnel perfectly round and widening as they rose and for one blessed moment, one blessed tiny instant, the songs of Heaven resounded down the tunnel as if its curves were not made of wind but of something solid that could echo these ethereal songs, and their organized rhythm, their heartbreaking beauty piercing the catastrophic suffering of this place-Lestat
I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.
What I did was take the Jesus of the Gospels, the Son of God, the Son of the Virgin Mary, and sought to make Him utterly believable, a vital breathing character.
I congratulate myself on not having arrived into the world until the present time. This age suits my taste.
You were the vampire in my dream. My perfect one.
In these last few days, we were close because we were both mortal men. We saw the same sun and the same twilight, we felt the same pull of the earth beneath our feet. We drank together and broke bread together. We might have made love together, if you had only allowed such a thing. But that’s all changed. You have your youth, yes, and all the dizzying wonder that accompanies the miracle. But I still see death when I look at you. I know now I cannot be your companion, and you cannot be mine
Something in me was responding now as the audience responded, not in fear, but in some human way, to the magic of that fragile painted set, the mystery of the lighted world there.
Oh, but when love is reached through suffering, it has a power it can never gain through innocence.
It draws it's strength, this big secret, from the same root from which I draw my strength, both the good and the bad, because in the end, they cannot be separated.
I was in the black silence of a medieval street, and blindly I followed its sharp turns, comforted by the height of its narrow tenements, which seemed at any moment capable of falling together, closing this alleyway under indifferent stars like a seam.
Writers, as they gain success, feel like outsiders because writers don't come together in real groups.
My life's been too much of a self-created vocation. And there are times when I think I've done everything in the name of defiance.