Quote

Despair was so familiar to me it could be banished by the sight of a beautiful mannikin in the window. It could be dispelled by the spectacle of lights surrounding a tower. It could be lifted by the great ghostly shape of St. Patrick's coming into view. And then despair would come again.

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
Great
Window
Tower
Would
Sight
Lifted
View
Towers
Dispelled
Coming
Lights
Ghostly
Views
Shape
Banished
Beautiful
Familiar
Patrick
Light
Despair
Spectacle
Come
Shapes
Surrounding

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Some mysteries are simply irresistible,” she said. “They have components that alter a life.
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The finest thing under the sun and moon is the human soul. I marvel at the small miracles of kindness that pass between humans, I marvel at the growth of conscience, at the persistence of reason in the face of all superstition or despair. I marvel at human endurance.
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Evil is just a point of view
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Words. Borne on the ever swelling current of hatred, like flowers opening in the current, petals peeling back, then falling apart.
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Evil is a point of view.
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Heaven would be Hell in no time if every cruel, selfish, vicious soul went to Heaven.
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This is a lyrical guide that addresses the deep human yearning to make a difference. It's full of indelible stories reminding us that, yes, helping people is hard-but it's both possible and infinitely rewarding. A Path Appears offers practical steps that any of us can take to empower others, and ourselves.
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I would die rather than live without you. I would die the same way he died. I can't bear you to look at me the way you did. I cannot bear it if you do not love me! -Claudia.
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[...] so important to believe in a concept of goodness, even if we make it up ourselves. We don't really make it up. it's there, isn't it? Oh, yes, it's there, she said. It's there because we put it there.
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I know nothing of God or the Devil. I have never seen a vision nor learned a secret that would damn or save my soul.
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As if the night had said to me, ‘You are the night and the night alone understands you and enfolds you in its arms’ One with the shadows. Without nightmare. An inexplicable peace.
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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.
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And books, they offer one hope -- that a whole universe might open up from between the covers, and falling into that universe, one is saved.
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Paris was a universe whole and entire unto herself, hollowed and fashioned by history so she seemed in this age of Napoleon III with her towering buildings, her massive cathedrals, her grand boulevards and ancient winding medieval streets - as vast and indestructible as nature itself.
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I tell you, we would be hard put to determine what is more evil -- religion or the pure idea. The intervention of the supernatural or the elegant abstract solution! Both have bathed this earth in suffering both have brought the human race literally and figuratively to its knees.
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I am in love with you', I responded. He laughed the most beguiling and gentle laugh. 'Of course you are,' he replied. 'I understand perfectly because I'm in love with myself. The fact that I'm not transfixed in front of the nearest mirror takes a great deal of self-control.' It was my turn to laugh.
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I was influenced by the medieval theological beliefs when I presented Satan in Jesus' dream as unable to figure out who or what Jesus is, and unable to see the future.
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Suppose death had a heart to love and to release you, to whom would he turn this passion, would you chose a person from the crowd there. A person to suffer as you suffer.
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Lestat: I despise you! I ought to destroy you-finish what I started when I made you. Turn you into ashes and sift them through my hands. You know that I could do it! Like that! Like the snap of mortal fingers, I could do it. Burn you as I burnt your little house. And nothing could save you, nothing at all.
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Keep your secrets Keep your silence It is a better gift than truth
Anne Rice