I Know Nothing, Because I Know Too

In A Way He Made Me Think Of A Child Doll, With Briliant Faintly Red-brown Glass Eyes - A Doll That Had Been Found In An Attic. I Wanted To Polish Him With Kisses, Clean Him Up, Make Him Evevn More Radiant Than He Was. "that's What You Always Want," He Said Softly... "when You Found Me Under Les Innocents," He Said, "you Wanted To Bathe Me With Perfume And Dress Me In Velvevt With Great Embroidered Sleeves." "yes," I Said, "and Comb Your Hair, Your Beautiful Russet Hair." My Tone Was Angry. "you Look Good To Me, You Damnable Little Devil, Good To Embrace And Good To Love.

Who Has A Right To Tell Me I Have No Gift, No Talent, No Passion ...' He Murmured. 'why Do People Say Those Things To You When Youre Young? Doesn't Seem Fair, Does It?' 'no, Darling, It's Not Fair,'she Said. 'but The Mystery Is Why You Listen.

I'm Gentleman Death In Silk And Lace, Come To Put Out The Candles. The Canker In The Heart Of The Rose.

I Don't Know Why One Author Writes Westerns While Another Writes Detective Novels. You Don't Know Why. You Go Where The Intensity Is. I Feel Most Comfortable Writing About Monsters. It's Possible That I Feel Like A Monster Myself. Or Maybe It's Because We All Have A Monster Inside Of Us, A Vampire, A Ghost, A Witch Or A Werewolf. You Do It Because It Works And It Feels Really Right And Authentic.

If I Haven't Put That On A T-shirt, I'm Going To. Actually, I Really Don't Want To Write Anything That Can't Be Put On A T-shirt. Actually I'd Like To Write Only On T-shirts. Actually, I'd Like To Write Whole Novels On T-shirts. So You Guys Could Say, 'i'm Wearing Chapter 8 Of Lestat's New Book, That's My Favorite; Oh I See You're Wearing Chapter 6-