A summer rain had left the night clean and sparkling with drops of water. I leaned against the end pillar of the gallery, my head touching the soft tendrils of a jasmine which grew there in a constant battle with a wisteria, and I thought of what lay before me throughout the world and throughout time, and resolved to go about it delicately and reverently, learning that from each thing which would take me best to another.

— Anne Rice

Because if God doesn't exist we are the creatures of highest consciousness in the universe. We alone understand the passage of time and the value off every minute of human life. And what constitutes evil, real evil, is the taking of a single human life. Whether a man would have died tomorrow or the day after or eventually. . . It doesn't matter. Because if God does not exist, this life. . . Every second of it. . . Is all we have.

— Anne Rice

Because if it's really true that there's no order, then anything can happen to us. Anything at all. There's no real natural law, no right and wrong that's immutable, and the world is suddenly a savage place where any number of things can go wrong.

— Anne Rice

Because people don't believe it unless it happens to them.

— Anne Rice

Because," she said, "that is what men would call it. They invented Satan, didn't they? Satanic is merely the name they give to the behavior of those who would disrupt the orderly way in which men want to live.

— Anne Rice

Being a vampire for him meant revenge. Revenge against life itself. Every time he took a life it was revenge. It was no wonder, then, that he appreciated nothing. The nuances of vampire existence weren't even available to him because he was focused with a maniacal vengeance upon the mortal life he'd left. Consumed with hatred, he looked back. Consumed with envy, nothing pleased him unless he could take it from others; and once having it, he grew cold and dissatisfied, not loving the thing for itself; and so he went after something else. Vengeance, blind and sterile and contemptible.

— Anne Rice

Be kind. Always if you have a choice, be kind.

— Anne Rice

But I lived a lie. I lived it out of anger. This is what I am trying to tell you. I have lived lies. I have done it again and again. Furthermore, I live lies because I cannot endure the weakness of anger and I cannot admit the irrationality of love. Oh, the lies I have told myself and others. I knew it yet I didn't know.

— Anne Rice

But I still did not realize how mad she was, and how accustomed to dreaming; and that she would not cry out for reality, rather would feed reality to her dreams, a demon elf feeding her spinning wheel with the reeds of the world so she might make her own weblike universe.

— Anne Rice

But Merchant, most journalists can’t be trusted. You do know that, don’t you?

— Anne Rice