Memory Was A Curse, Yes, He Thought,

I Would Have Done Just About Anything For Him.

"you're A Perfect Devil, Lestat!" He Was Saying. "that's What You Are! You Are The Devil Himself!"

An Evil For These Times Destined To Move Through The World In Handsome Human Guise.

Something In Me Was Responding Now As The Audience Responded, Not In Fear, But In Some Human Way, To The Magic Of That Fragile Painted Set, The Mystery Of The Lighted World There.

From My Stone Pillow I Have Dreamed Dreams Of The Mortal World Above. I Have Heard Its Voices, Its New Music, As Lullabies As I Lie In My Grave. I Have Envisioned Its Fantastical Discoveries. I Have Known Its Courage In The Timeless Sanctum Of My Thoughts. And Though It Shuts Me Out With Its Dazzling Forms, I Long For One With The Strength To Roam It Fearlessly, To Ride The Devil's Road Through Its Heart.