Artists Are Meant To Be Madmen, To

Thank God He Killed The Guy. Oh, Now, Wait A Minute. What Kind Of A Prayer Was That!

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.

And When A Strong Man Is Sweet, Even Goddesses Look Down From Mount Olympus.

Yet I Saw Crypts When I Looked At Him, And I Heard The Beat Of Kettledrums. I Saw Torchlit Fields Where I Had Never Been, Heard Vague Incantations, Felt The Heat Of Raging Fires On My Face. And They Didn't Come Out Of Him, These Visions. Rather I Drew Them Out On My Own. Yet I Never Had Nicolas, Mortal Or Immortal, Been So Alluring. Never Had Gabrielle Held Me So In Thrall. Dear God, This Is Love. This Is Desire. And All My Past Amours Have Been But The Shadow Of This." — Lestat De Lioncourt

The Spirit Who Inhabits Her Animates Us All. Destroy The Host, You Destroy The Power. The Young Die First; The Old Wither Slowly; The Eldest Perhaps Would Go Last. But She Is The Queen Of The Damned, And The Damned Can't Live Without Her.