I have never seen a vision, nor learned a secret, that would damn or save my soul.
The world changes, we do not; therein lies the irony that finally kills us.
Locked together in hatred. But I can't hate you, Louis. Louis, my love, I was mortal until you gave me your immortal kiss. You became my mother, and my father, and so I'm yours forever. But now it's time to end it, Louis. Now it's time to leave him.
One lesson you taught me: never drink from the dead.
I'll put you in your coffin!
Do you still want death? Or have you tasted it enough?
I've come to answer your prayers. Life has no meaning anymore, does it? The wine has no taste, food sickens you and there seems no reason for any of it.
Don't be afraid. I'm going to give you the choice I never had.
Your body's dying. Pay no attention, it happens to us all.
All I ever need to find you is to follow the corpses of rats.
Pain is terrible for you. You feel it like no other creature because you are a vampire.
Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately, and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are; none so like Him as ourselves.
There's still life in the old lady yet! Louis! Come back! You are what you are! Merciful death, how you love your precious guilt.
Claudia, you've been a very, very naughty little girl.
Oh, Louis, Louis. Still whining, Louis. Have you heard enough? I've had to listen to that for centuries!
Do you have enough for the story of a life?
I'm flesh and blood, but not human. I haven't been human for two hundred years.
I saw it as though it was my last, but I could recall no other before it.
Forgive me if I have a lingering respect for life.
Her blood coursed through my veins sweeter than life itself. And as it did, Lestat's words made sense to me. I knew peace only when I killed, and when I heard her heart in that terrible rhythm, I knew again what peace could be.
A little child she was, but also a fierce killer, now capable of the ruthless pursuit of blood with all a child's demanding.
How do we seem to you? Do you find us beautiful, magical? Our white skin, our fierce eyes? "Drink me," you ask me; do you have any idea of the thing you will become?
But the world was a tomb to me, a graveyard of broken statues, and each of those statues resembled her face.
Whatever happened to Lestat I do not know. I go on, night after night. I feed on those who cross my path. But all my passion went with her golden hair. I'm a spirit of preternatural flesh. Detached. Unchangeable. Empty.