I Am Deeply Discouraged By Catholic Bishops

Who Knew That Better Than I, Who Had Presided Over The Death Of My Own Body, Seeing All I Called Human Wither And Die Only To Form An Unbreakable Chain Which Held Me Fast To This World Yet Made Me Forever Its Exile, A Specter With A Beating Heart?

Like All Strong People, She Suffered Always A Measure Of Loneliness; She Was A Marginal Outsider, A Secret Infidel Of A Certain Sort.

His Blood Coursed Through My Veins Sweeter Than Life Itself. And As It Did, Lestats Words Made Sense To Me. I Knew Peace Only When I Killed And When I Heard His Heart In That Terrible Rhythm, I Knew Again What Peace Could Be.

When I Write Something, Every Word Of It Is Meant. I Can't Say It Enough.

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.