"you're A Perfect Devil, Lestat!" He Was

I Never Lie," I Said Offhand. "at Least Not To Those I Don't Love.

When We Are Weary, We Speak Lovingly Of Dreams As If They Embodied Our True Deisres-what We Would Have When That Which We Do Have So Sorely Disappoints Us

How Shameful. How Predictable! How Insipid. And How Sweet.

Truth Is A Risky Proposition. It's The Nature Of Mediocre Human Beings To Believe That Lies Are Necessary, That They Serve A Purpose, That Truth Is Subversive, That Candor Is Dangerous, That The Very Scaffold Of Communal Life Is Supported By Lies.

-you Are On The Verge Of Being Truly Mad. -no, Not At All. Look At Me. I Can Tie My Shoelaces. See?