I Read The Old Curiosity Shop Before

And Then There Came The Pounding Of Another Drum, As If Another Giant Were Coming Yards Behind Him, And Each Giant, Intent On His Own Drum, Gave No Notice To The Rhythm Of The Other. The Sound Grew Louder And Louder Until It Seemed To Fill Not Just My Hearing But All My Senses, To Be Throbbing In My Lips And Fingers, In The Flesh Of My Temples, In My Veins.

We Have To Become Saints. We Have To Become Like Christ. Anything Less Is Simply Not Enough.

The Fans, The Vampire Groupies, Love The Idea Of This Androgynous, Preternatural Figure Stalking The Night, And Craving Aesthetic Pleasure Just As He Craves Blood, Wearing Only The Best Velvet Clothes, And Savoring Red Roses.

I Never Changed After That. I Sought For Nothing In The One Great Source Of Change Which Is Humanity. And Even In My Love And Absorption With The Beauty Of The World, I Sought To Learn Nothing That Could Be Given Back To Humanity. I Drank Of The Beauty Of The World As A Vampire Drinks. I Was Satisfied. I Was Filled To The Brim. But I Was Dead. And I Was Changeless.

Old Truths And Ancient Magic, Revolution And Invention, All Conspire To Distract Us From The Passion That In One Way Or Another Defeats Us All.