Garden Of Pain, I Need

In A Way He Made Me Think Of A Child Doll, With Briliant Faintly Red-brown Glass Eyes - A Doll That Had Been Found In An Attic. I Wanted To Polish Him With Kisses, Clean Him Up, Make Him Evevn More Radiant Than He Was. "that's What You Always Want," He Said Softly... "when You Found Me Under Les Innocents," He Said, "you Wanted To Bathe Me With Perfume And Dress Me In Velvevt With Great Embroidered Sleeves." "yes," I Said, "and Comb Your Hair, Your Beautiful Russet Hair." My Tone Was Angry. "you Look Good To Me, You Damnable Little Devil, Good To Embrace And Good To Love.

My Own Funeral, I'd Like To Be Laid Out In A Coffin In My Own House. I Would Like My Coffin To Be Put In The Double Parlor, And I Would Like All The Flowers To Be White.

None Of Us Really Changes Over Time. We Only Become More Fully What We Are.

The Library Furnished Our Dreams, Helped Us Shape Our Ambitions, Made Up People Of Books And Ideas And Grand Designs.

If I Haven't Put That On A T-shirt, I'm Going To. Actually, I Really Don't Want To Write Anything That Can't Be Put On A T-shirt. Actually I'd Like To Write Only On T-shirts. Actually, I'd Like To Write Whole Novels On T-shirts. So You Guys Could Say, 'i'm Wearing Chapter 8 Of Lestat's New Book, That's My Favorite; Oh I See You're Wearing Chapter 6-