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.
Anne RiceI don't like myself you know. I love myself. I'm devoted to myself till my dying day. But I don't like myself.
Anne Rice