Tis the gift to be simple... ‘Tis the gift to be free...
Don’t regret it when you don’t come to see me. I think I’m timeless. You’re here now and you’ve remembered me. That’s what counts.
One moment the world is as it is. The next, it is something entirely different. Something it has never been before.
Give me a man or woman who has read a thousand books and you give me an interesting companion. Give me a man or woman who has read perhaps three and you give me a very dangerous enemy indeed.
Strong women are absolutely unpredictable.
Come on, say it again. I’m a perfect devil. Tell me how bad I am. It makes me feel so good!
I think that we are supernatural. We are unique. We’re the only animals in the universe that we know of that actually have self-consciousness, a sense of time and our own mortality.
None of us really changes over time. We only become more fully what we are.
And I realized that I’d tolerated him this long because of self-doubt.
Cities have distinct personalities. It’s a matter of knowing it.
I assume as a child Jesus had to learn how to do carpentry, learn Torah, learn all the things a human child had to learn. If He was human in all ways except that He did not sin, this must have been the case.
The human heart is my school.
Evil is just a point of view.
For me, places have a tremendous impact. I fall in love with places. All of life seems different in different places.
I no longer represent any organized religion. I’m not Catholic. I’m not Christian. I’m saying this because I have to be an outsider for Christ.
The most difficult novel I have had to write in terms of just getting it done was The Vampire Lestat. It took a year to write.
That was my nature – going from temptation after temptation, not to sin, but to be redeemed.
I know Christianity; and I know I have to move away from it and approach Jesus Christ on my own. I have to talk to Him directly and seek His guidance and protection as I seek to make my commitment to Him central to my life.
The only power that exists is inside ourselves.
Writers write about what obsesses them. You draw those cards. I lost my mother when I was 14. My daughter died at the age of 6. I lost my faith as a Catholic. When I’m writing, the darkness is always there. I go where the pain is.