Louis: Where are we?
Lestat: Where do you think, my idiot friend? We're in a nice, filthy cemetery. Does this make you happy? Is this fitting, proper enough?
Louis: We belong in hell.
Lestat: And what if there is no hell, or they don't want us there? Ever think of that?
Louis: But there was a hell, and no matter where we moved to, I was in it.
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Louis: I'm flesh and blood, but not human. I haven't been human for two hundred years.
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Louis: Claudia, don't!
Claudia: [Beginning to cut her hair] Why not? Can't I change, like everybody else?
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Santiago: But hark, methinks a mortal doth approach.
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Santiago: Suppose death had a heart to love and to release you, to whom would he turn this passion, would you chose a person from the crowd there. A person to suffer as you suffer.
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Armand: The world changes, we do not, there lies the irony that finally kills us.
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Lestat: Mon dieu, what melancholy nonsense. I swear you grow more like Louis each day. Soon you'll be eating rats!
Claudia: Rats? When did you eat rats Louis?
Louis: It was a long, long time ago. Before you were born, and I don't recommend them.
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