I lived like a man who wanted to die but who had no courage to do it himself.

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

Should we put out the light? And then put out the light. But once put out thy light, I cannot give it vital breath again. It needs must wither.

There may be writing groups where people meet but it's occasional. You really do it all at your own computer or your own typewriter by yourself.

I'm always looking, and I'm always asking questions.

Lestat: Toughen up baby. I'm looking for the eternal scum.

Mortal beauty often makes me ache, and mortal grandeur can fill me with that longing...but Paris, Paris drew me close to her heart, so I forgot myself entirely. Forgot the damned and questing preternatural thing that doted on mortal skin and mortal clothing. Paris overwhelmed, and lightened and rewarded more richly than any promise.