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How could anyone love Him? What did you just tell me yourself about the world? Don't you see, everybody hates God now. It's not that God is dead in the twentieth century. It's that everybody hates Him! At least I think so.

Anne Rice

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Anne Rice
Age: 83
Born: 1941
Born: October 4
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
New Orleans
Louisiana
Anne O'Brien
A. N. Roquelaure
Anne Rampling
Howard Allen O'Brien
Howard Allen Frances O'Brien
Everybody
Anyone
Hate
Tell
Twentieth
Love
Hates
Think
Dead
Thinking
Century
World
Least

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A singer can shatter glass with the proper high note, he said, but the simplest way to break glass is simply to drop it on the floor.
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Obviously, a writer can't know everything about what she writes. It's impossible.
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I'm going to keep on dealing with the supernatural in a lot of ways.
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Without memory there can be no insight. Without love, there can be no appreciation.
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I wasn't sent here to find angels! I wasn't sent here to dream of them. I wasn't sent here to hear them sing! I was sent here to be alive. To breathe and sweat and thirst and sometimes cry.
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You make me miserable. You really do, I want you to know that. Much as I love you, much as I need you, much as I can't exist without you, you make me miserable.
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Invest in a feather duster - the possibilities are endless.
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But just remember, life without me would be even more unbearable.
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The world doesn't need any more mediocrity or hedged bets.
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The only pain in pleasure is the pleasure of the pain.
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I gave up on the big screen. The Witching Hour was at Warner Bros. for 10 years and it just didn't work out.
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I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in love with Lestat's iridescent eyes, that I'd sold my soul for a many-colored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective surface conveyed the power to walk on water.
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He had never expected death to be this quiet, this secretive, this easy.
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-You are on the verge of being truly mad. -No, not at all. Look at me. I can tie my shoelaces. See?
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Evil is a point of view.
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Your love to others, and their love for you, that the increase of love in life itself around you, is what matters.
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I can’t help being a gorgeous fiend. It’s just the card I drew.
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The earth here is beautiful. And it still belongs to the dead.
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The evil of one murder is infinite, and my guilt is like my beauty - eternal. I cannot be forgiven, for there is no one to forgive me for all I've done.
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Evil is just a point of view
Anne Rice