Who knew that better than I, who had presided over the death of my own body, seeing all I called human wither and die only to form an unbreakable chain which held me fast to this world yet made me forever its exile, a specter with a beating heart?

Oh, if the moon only had a secret, if the moon only held a truth. But the moon was just the moon.

How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet.

I’d thought I knew what beauty was in women; but she’d surpassed all the language I had for it.

That morning I was not yet a vampire, and I saw my last sunrise. I remember it completely, and yet I can't recall any sunrise before it. I watched the whole magnificence of the dawn for the last time as if it were the first. And then I said farewell to sunlight, and set out to become what I became.

We're frightened of what makes us different.

Then, are you master of us all? You didn't teach her that. Was she supposed to imbibe it from my quiet subservience?