loustat quote bot

You’re a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis, and I’d have it no other way.

And though Lestat still threatened me with danger to her, he did not threaten her at all but was loving to her, proud of her beauty, anxious to teach her that we must kill to live and that we ourselves could never die.

He had shared the dark and romantic years of the nineteenth century with me, he was my companion as no other immortal had ever been.

I smiled to myself at that, his dressing for me. But from time to time he did, and when I saw that the shirt had antique buttons of gold and pearl, I knew that he had, and I accepted the way a sick man accepts a cool cloth on his forehead.

I was aware of my hands moving over his hair, embracing his neck, drawing him ever closer, in a way I had never done in our long years in New Orleans. We joined in the posture of lovers, brothers, fathers with sons.

Lestat, in fact, had aroused in me feelings which I hadn’t wished to confide in anyone, feelings I’d wished to forget, despite Claudia’s death. Hatred had not been one of them.

You might not know this, but I had the tailor inscribe your initials on the back side of the ticket pocket. Right here. So your name would always cradle...

In fact, after reading his account of things, I ached for him, ached for his romantic illusions, and even his dishonesty.

And I had always loved him, hadn't I, no matter what happened, and how strong could love grow if you had eternity to nourish it, and it took only these few moments in time to renew its momentum, its heat?

And though Lestat still threatened me with danger to her, he did not threaten her at all but was loving to her, proud of her beauty, anxious to teach her that we must kill to live and that we ourselves could never die.

Well, Louis and I have been reunited a number of times, and this time around, at the Court in France, our reunion is enduring.

But Lestat, how we might have known each other, had he been a man of character, a man of even a little thought. The old man’s words came back to me; Lestat a brilliant pupil, a lover of books that had been burned.

Louis closed the lid of my coffin and seated himself there. He was close enough to me that I could take his hand and I did. A memory came back to me, a memory of the first time I ever saw him in New Orleans.

I never revealed to him half my powers, and with reason, because he shrank in guilt and selfloathing from using even half of his own.

But nothing changed the wall of telepathic silence that fell between master and fledgling. Yet I felt closer to him than to any other visible being in the world.

It was coming home to me every night just what it meant to be the Prince and to have Amel inside me, in more ways than they knew. And I had built up this secret fantasy that the one person in all the world who would let me moan about it was Louis. Ah, Louis…

He didn't choose me to be his doormat. I knew he enjoyed it when I fought back, but there was present a kind of worship on my part. The earth beneath me always felt liquid.

He drank it all down and then casually threw the glass at the fireplace. I stared at the fragments. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ He gestured to the broken glass with a sarcastic smile. ‘I surely hope you don’t, because there’s nothing much you can do about it if you do mind.’

Be all the beautiful things you are, and be them without apology.

I smiled to myself at that, his dressing for me. But from time to time he did, and when I saw that the shirt had antique buttons of gold and pearl, I knew that he had, and I accepted the way a sick man accepts a cool cloth on his forehead.