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Anne Rice

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“As he stood there, watching me, watching me examine him, I asked him sharply: "Am I beautiful to you?" The expression on his face grew even darker. Never have I seen him the way he looked. A scorching heat came into his face, and it seemed he blinked to clear his vision. His perfect vision. He left me and went out of the room. I went after him. In truth, I couldn't bear to see him the way he was, yet I pursued him. "Am i beautiful to you?" He stared at me as if I frightened him. I held tight to his arm. "Answer me! Look at me! What do you see?" He was in a dreadful state. I thought he'd pull away, laugh, flash his usual brimming colours. But instead he dropped to his knees before me and took hold of both my arms. He kissed me roughly on the mouth. "I love you," he whispered. As if it were a curse he laid on me, and then he spoke this to me: "Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young.”

“I realized aloud in the midst of saying it that even when we die we probably don't find out the answer as to why we were ever alive. Even the avowed atheist probably thinks that in death he'll get some answer. I mean God will be there, or there won't be anything at all. 'But that's just it,' I said, 'we don't make any discovery at that moment! We merely stop! We pass into nonexistence without ever knowing a thing.' I saw the universe, a vision of the sun, the planets, the stars, black night going on forever. And I began to laugh. 'Do you realize that! We'll never know why the hell any of it happened, not even when it's over!' I shouted at Nicolas, who was sitting back on the bed, nodding and drinking his wine out of a flagon. 'We're going to die and not even know. We'll never know, and all this meaninglessness will just go on and on and on. And we won't any longer be witness to it. We won't have even that little bit of power to give meaning to it in our minds. We'll just be gone, dead, dead, dead, without ever knowing!”

“And this notion of the meaninglessness of our lives here began to enflame us. I took up the theme again that music and acting were good because they drove back chaos. Chaos was the meaninglessness of day-to-day life, and if we were to die now, our lives would have been nothing but meaninglessness.”

“You have a light in you that’s almost blinding. But in me there’s only darkness. Sometimes I think it’s like the darkness that infected you that night in the inn when you began to cry and to tremble. You were so helpless, so unprepared for it. I try to keep the darkness from you because I need your light. I need it desperately, but you don’t need the darkness.”