Oh Lestat, you deserved everything that's ever happened to you. You better not die. You might actually go to hell.

The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation.

Words. Borne on the ever swelling current of hatred, like flowers opening in the current, petals peeling back, then falling apart.

Roman influence seeds itself, sprouting mighty oaks right through the modern forest of computers, digital disks, microviruses and space satellites.

"You're a perfect devil, Lestat!" he was saying. "That's what you are! You are the devil himself!"

What I have always wanted more than revenge is to bring the other person to recognition of the pain they caused, so they essentially say, "I will never do that again."

You never know the palette of the one you kill until the mind disgorges its finest colours.