Pike Vampire Quotes

Death never comes at the right time, despite what mortals believe. Death always comes like a thief.

Before I begin, may I ask how old you are?" "You may ask." "How old are you?" "It's none of your business

He cries. 'Please! I don't want to die.' I lean over. My hair smothers him. 'Then you should never have been born,' I say.

Darkness approaches from outside. I feel no light inside me strong enough to resist it.

Mortals have always exaggerated the difference between hate and love. Both come from the heart. You can never hate strongly unless you have loved strongly.

Some loves have to be given up, others have to be forgotten. Strange as it may sound, if you think of me as a monster, but I can love most passionately. I do not think of myself as evil.

Krishna was once asked what was the most miraculous thing in all creation, and he replied, "That a man should wake each morning and believe deep in his heart that he will live forever, even though he knows that he is doomed.

Truly it it not the tragedies that destroy us, but the memories of them.

I don't want to die!" "Then you should never been born.

When you were in love, you knew no fear or hatred. When you were fearful, there was no possibility of love or hate. And when there was hate, there was only hate.

When you were in love you knew no fear or hatred.

Nothing is as it seems. Black can appear white when the light is blinding but white loses all luster at the faintest sign of darkness.

You will see that the things you desire most are the very things that bring you the greatest sorrow.

True courage, in the face of almost certain death, is the rarest quality on earth.

I would look up at the moon and see that it was not the smooth orb we had all believed, but a pitted and scarred world with no air.

All ends are temporary and all life is born from death.

It doesn't matter. You are what you are. I am what I am. We are the same-when you take the time to remember me.

I am a vampire, and that is the truth.

The most content people are those who expect nothing, who have ceased to dream.

The truth is always simpler than you can imagine.

People with power always take advantage of those without power.

I wanted you to thank you for being my friend and letting me play a part in your story.

In this world of gossip, a good listener is rarer than a great orator.

Persistence is the key to solving most mysteries.

It is a paradox. Life is that way. God designed it that way. I believe I met him once. He was full of mischief.

That is the mysterious thing about tragedy- it often strikes at the happiest moment.

‎When you point your finger at someone, anyone, it is often a moment of judgement. We point our fingers when we want to scold someone, point out what they have done wrong. But each time we point, we simultaneously point three fingers back at ourselves.

No religion is perfect, not after man gets through with it.

There is no time for grief; there never is.

The seconds tick. They always do. The power of an entire sun cannot stop them even for a moment, and so death comes between the moments, like a thief of light in the dark.

How much modern civilization has lost, I think, when they lost the awareness of the billions of stars overhead.

One question always leads to another question. Some things are better to wonder about.

This problem - it is age old. To do what is right and save the day without destroying the very thing the day is lived for.

I turned to look into his face one last time. It was as if I could see the whole universe in his eyes. Maybe he was God, maybe he was simply enlightened. I didn't care right then, in that blessed moment, I just loved him. Later, though, the love was to turn to hate, to fear. They seemed so opposite, the feelings, yet they were all one note on his flute.

Power, wealth and immortality--they don't bring happiness. You will never know what the word means.

For feeling, not events, is to me the essence of history.

I am a vampire," I say softly. "And you have pissed me off.

Most of all I grieve for my soul because even though I do, finally, believe there is a God, and that I have met him, I do not know if he has given me an immortal soul, but only one that was to last me as long as my body lasted. I do not know if when the last page of my book is closed, that will be the end of me.

Dive deep into the ocean, Sita, and you will find that the greatest treasures you find are the illusions you leave behind.

The desert surrounds your every step and you walk forever a thirsty man.

Yes. The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference. That is why few people find God. They go to church and talk about him and that sort of thing. They may even go out and evangelize and try to win converts. But in their hearts, if they are honest with themselves, they are indifferent to him because they cannot see him. God is too abstract for people. God is a word without meaning. If Jesus came back today, nothing he said would make any sense to those who wait for him. They would be the first ones to kill him again.

The physics are simple in theory, but in practice they are filled with the possibility for limitless error.

You can never hate strongly unless you have loved strongly.

When you are in love you know no fear or hatred. when you are fearful there is no possibility of love or hatred. And when there is hate, there is only hate.

There would be a trial and there would be a judge. The only problem was, there could only be one sentence.

As to blood—ah, blood, the whole subject fascinates me. I do like that as well, warm and dripping, when I am thirsty. And I am often thirsty.

The best art always comes unbidden.

You can never hate strongly unless you have loved strongly

I am a vampire. Blood does not bother me.

John: 'Have mercy. I don't want to die!' Sita: 'Then you should never have been born.

Sometimes, if I am not careful, and I stare too long at a flower, it shrivels and dies.

The late hour is such a friend; it has been for so many years. There is not a soul around as I carry Riley downstairs and dump him in my trunk. It is good, for I am not in the mood to kill again, and murder, for me, is very much tied to my mood, like making love. Even when it is necessary.

God is God. His name doesn't matter.

I can only give you some hints. You have to place him in a situation where your advantages are magnified.

Truly, a life in constant pain is the life of the damned.

death never comes at the right time, despite what mortals believe. Death always comes like a thief.

Yet, ironically, it is her very wretchedness that makes me pity her so. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what to do!

There is not enough blood in her veins to keep her heart from skipping.

A lover who hates, a saint who sins, and an angel who kills.

Then you should have never been born

God is God. His name doesn’t matter.

Suddenly I felt the weight of shattered dreams.

Quant au sang, ah, le sang, le sujet entier me fascine. En plus, j'aime ça, quand ça coule tout chaud et que je suis assoiffée. Et je le suis souvent.

But centuries of time have not made me insensitive

There is no sun, but a hundred blazing blue stars,each shimmering in a long river of nebulous cloud. The air is warm, pleasant,fragrant with the perfume of a thousand invisible flowers.

Why am I talking about all this? Who am I talking to? I send out these words, these thoughts, simply because it is time. Time for what, I do not know and it does not matter because it is what I want and that is always reason enough for me.

Victim: I don't want to die! Sita: Then you should never have been born

we were here to become like God. To live like his blessed son. We just needed a few pints of Christ's blood to do so.

I think of Krishna and his deep blue eyes. It is said, in the hidden scriptures in India, that to focus on the eyes of the Lord is the highest spiritual practice a human being can proform. It's suppose to be equal to the greatest act of charity, which Jesus describes in the Bible as sacrificing one's life to save the life of another. The Vedas, the Bible, it's true, they overlap a lot. Maybe gazing into Krishna's eyes... Pain...Pain...Pain... Is equal to Christ's sacrifice. I'm only suffering this pain to protect John. It doesn't matter that he won't see me. I still love him, I will always love him. And in this exquisitely agonizing moment, I realize he refused to see me because he wanted to force me to see him inside. Ah, that's the key! This practice of visualizing that I'm staring into Krishna's blue eyes, I've done it before. But this is the first time I see him staring back at me! The Agony comes, and it does not get transformed into bliss. If anything it is worse than before. Except for one thing. The pain does not obliterate my sense of "I." I'm still Sita, the last vampire.

Krishna means love," she said. "But Radha means longing. Longing is older than love. I am older than he. Did you know that, Sita?

He shrugs as he slowly collects himself. “I guess there was a part of me that kept hoping you would rise from the dead. Like a normal vampire.

But this I have lived five thousand years to learn. Power is as cold as forgotten ashes. Only my love can keep alive the memory of my daughter, the stories of Ray, Arturo, Yaksha, and most of all the grace of Krishna.

Time cannot destroy it. I am that love - time cannot touch me. Time but changes the form. Somewhere in some time it will return. When you least expect it, the face of a loved one reappears. Look beyond that face and you will see me.

He said, where there is love, there is my grace.

Alone in my room, I don’t feel alone. It’s as if I have two shadows instead of one, and this second shadow doesn’t conform to my movements. It follows me, it gives the impression it will never leave me, but it does what it wants. I worry that in time I will do what it wants.

Yet I have to wonder if I have lost the song because I have become the song. If I have lost my Lord because I do indeed desire to be what I will become. A lover who hates, a saint who sins, and an angel who kills.

Luc would have put my head on a pike if you’d taken a hit.” “How do you know I didn’t?” I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Did you?” His eyes went to sultry slits. “Do you want to look and see?” “Not especially.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

In the heart are three emotions—I felt them then: love, fear, and hatred. I could see that an individual could only have one of the three at a time. When you were in love you knew no fear or hatred. When you were fearful, there was no possibility of love or hate. And when there was hate, there was only hate.

-I do not want to die - Then you should not have been born (Sita) Last Vampire

Any odds are good odds for the damned

But desperate people often forget their religion when they need it most.

En fait, au XVème siècle, en Transylvanie, pendant la guerre contre les Ottomans, j'ai vraiment rencontré Vlad l'Empaleur, qui a inspiré le personnage mythique de Dracula, et qui n'a jamais eu les terribles canines que la légende lui attribue. Au contraire, une visite chez le dentiste lui aurait fait le plus grand bien : il avait les dents pourries, et une haleine des plus fétides. Et ce n'était pas un vampire, tout juste un catholique fanatique, doté d'un penchant fétichiste pour la décapitation, qui m'avait proposé une promenade dans sa calèche. J'ai le chic pour attirer les hommes qui sortent de l'ordinaire.

Time cannot destroy it. I am that love—time cannot touch me. Time but changes the form. Somewhere in some time it will return. When you least expect it, the face of a loved one reappears. Look beyond the face and—

I stand on a vast grass field of many gently sloping hills. It is night, yet the sky is bright. There is no sun, but a hundred blazing blue stars, each shining in a long river of nebulous cloud. The air is warm, pleasant, fragrant with the perfume of a thousand invisible flowers. In the distance a stream of people walk toward a large vessel of some type, nestled between the hills. The ship is violet, glowing; the bright rays that stab forth from it seem to reach to the stars. Somehow I know that it is about to leave and that I am supposed to be on it. Yet, before I depart, there is something I have to discuss with Lord Krishna. He stands beside me on the wide plain, his gold flute in his right hand, a red lotus slower in his left. His dress is simple, as is mine - long blue gowns that reach to the ground. Only he wears a single jewel around his neck - the brilliant Kaustubha gem, in which the destiny of every soul can be seen. He does not look at me but toward the vast ship, and the stars beyond. He seems to be waiting for me to speak, but for some reason I cannot remember what he said last. I only know that I am a special case. Because I do not know what to ask, I say what is most on my mind. "When will I see you again, my Lord?" He gestures to the vast plain, the thousands of people leaving. "The earth is a place of time and dimension. Moments here can seem like an eternity there. It all depends on your heart. When you remember me, I am there in the blink of an eye." "Even on earth?" He nods. "Especially there. It is a unique place. Even the gods pray to take birth there." "Why that, my Lord?" He smiles faintly. His smile is bewitching. It has been said, I know, that the smile of the Lord has bewildered the minds of the angels. It has bewildered mine. "One quest always leads to another question. Some things are better to wonder about." He turns toward me finally, his long black hair blowing in the soft night breeze. The stars reflect in his black pupils; the whole universe is there. The love that flows from him is the sweetest ambrosia in all the heavens. Yet it breaks my heart to feel because I know it will soon be gone. "It is all maya," he says. "Illusion." "Will I get lost in this illusion, my Lord?" "Of course. It is to be expected. You will be lost for a long time.

I stand on a vast grass field of many gently sloping hills. It is night, yet the sky is bright. There is no sun, but a hundred blazing blue stars, each shining in a long river of nebulous cloud. The air is warm, pleasant, fragrant with the perfume of a thousand invisible flowers. In the distance a stream of people walk toward a large vessel of some type, nestled between the hills. The ship is violet, glowing; the bright rays that stab forth from it seem to reach to the stars. Somehow I know that it is about to leave and that I am supposed to be on it. Yet, before I depart, there is something I have to discuss with Lord Krishna. He stands beside me on the wide plain, his gold flute in his right hand, a red lotus slower in his left. His dress is simple, as is mine - long blue gowns that reach to the ground. Only he wears a single jewel around his neck - the brilliant Kaustubha gem, in which the destiny of every soul can be seen. He does not look at me but toward the vast ship, and the stars beyond. He seems to be waiting for me to speak, but for some reason I cannot remember what he said last. I only know that I am a special case. Because I do not know what to ask, I say what is most on my mind. "When will I see you again, my Lord?" He gestures to the vast plain, the thousands of people leaving. "The earth is a place of time and dimension. Moments here can seem like an eternity there. It all depends on your heart. When you remember me, I am there in the blink of an eye." "Even on earth?" He nods. "Especially there. It is a unique place. Even the gods pray to take birth there." "Why that, my Lord?" He smiles faintly. His smile is bewitching. It has been said, I know, that the smile of the Lord has bewildered the minds of the angels. It has bewildered mine. "One question always leads to another question. Some things are better to wonder about." He turns toward me finally, his long black hair blowing in the soft night breeze. The stars reflect in his black pupils; the whole universe is there. The love that flows from him is the sweetest ambrosia in all the heavens. Yet it breaks my heart to feel because I know it will soon be gone. "It is all maya," he says. "Illusion." "Will I get lost in this illusion, my Lord?" "Of course. It is to be expected. You will be lost for a long time.

I wonder if I will die, after all.

Staring down at my trembling hands, I wonder many things.

In the heart are three emotions—I felt them then: love, fear, and hatred. I could see that an individual could only have one of the three at a time.

The expression "the impatience of youth" is silly. The longer I live, the more impatient I become.

I am not going to leave,” he says. I sigh. “It may be too late for that already. Stay then. Watch. Pray.” “To Krishna?” “God is God. His name doesn’t matter. But I think only he can help us now.

In that night all time was lost, and all love was tainted.

Ah, history, what an illusion humanity has of the past. And yet scholars argue the reality of their texts until they are blue in the face, even though something as recent as the Second World War is remembered in a manner that has no feeling for the times. For feeling, not events, is to me the essence of history. The majority of people recollect World War II as a great adventure against impossible odds, while it was nothing but an unceasing parade of suffering. How quickly mortals forget. But I forget nothing. Even I, a bloodthirsty harlot if ever there was one, have never witnessed a glorious war.

If you don't want to die, you should have never been born

He cries, “Please! I don’t want to die.” I lean over. My hair smothers him. “Then you should never have been born,” I say.

There is a bit of a fanatic in his eyes. He believes he is on a holy mission and has elected himself the main deity. That disturbs me even more. A prophet is more dangerous than a criminal. At least a criminal's needs are simple. A prophet requires constant stimulation. The false ones at least.

A sinner, as long as he or she was not a heretic, could repent and escape with a flogging. A saint might be a witch. Better to burn a possible saint, the Church though, than let a genuine witch escape. They had a weird sense of justice.