She had already turned. She watched him in amazement as he made his way slowly across the lawn and into the house. Pandora stepped back for him, and we all watched in respectful silence as he sat down near the piano, his back to the front right leg of it, and his knees brought up and his head resting wearily on his folded arms. He closed his eyes.
"Sybelle," I asked, "would you play it for him? The Appassionata, again, if you would."
And of course, she did.
But no one will weep for me or for them. They have been buried, nameless, beneath five centuries of time.
I am a vampire.
My name is Vittorio, and I write this now in the tallest tower of the ruined mountaintop castle in which I was born, in the northernmost part of Tuscany, that most beautiful of lands in the very center of Italy.
Master, the paintings, the paintings in the storage rooms!" I cried.
"Forget the paintings. It's too late. Boys, run from here, get out now, save yourselves from the fire."
Knocking the attackers back, he shot up the stairwell and called down to me from the uppermost railing. "Come, Amadeo, fight them off, believe in your strength, child, fight.
Tags: anne-rice the-vampire-chronicles the-vampire-armand
Let me pay the price for you instead.
Anne RiceTags: the-vampire-chronicles vittorio-the-vampire
I no nothing of god or the devil, and after 400 years... This is the only real evil left...
Anne RiceTags: vampire-cronicles
An alien calm crept slowly over me. It was dark, full of bitterness and growing fascination.
Anne RiceTags: the-vampire-lestat
I understand, I am just beginning, I am just beginning to understand
Anne RiceThey said a child had died in the attic. Her clothes had been discovered in the wall.
I wanted to go up there, and to lie down near the wall, and be alone.
They'd seen her ghost now and then, the child. But none of these vampires could see spirits, really, at least not the way that I could see them. No matter. It wasn't the company of the child I wanted. It was to be in that place.
Tags: the-vampire-armand
Laura remarked that science was dependent upon poetry, that all scientific description was metaphoric.
Anne RiceYour life will be filled with good things, for the demons are slain; and you will inherit Eden
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