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This, then, was the fall of Lucifer like the Star of Morning frohters of Men that they had now the countenances and hearts of angels

"Give theive it to them when they have learnt in my school how to love all that you have created "

Oh, a book has been filled with this adventure Memnoch the Devil cannot be condensed here in these few unjust paragraphs

But this was the sum of what fell onnow and then past Lestat's frantic, pacing figure at the white sky of ever falling snow, shutting out beneath his roaring narrative the ru with the awful fear in myself that I must at the climax of his tale disappoint him That I must remind him that he had done no more than shape the mystic journey of a thousand saints in a new and palatable fashion

So it is a school that replaces those rings of eternal fire which the poet Dante described in such degree as to sicken the reader, and even the tender Fra Angelico felt compelled to paint, where naked mortals bathed in flame were meant to suffer for eternity

A school, a place of hope, a proh perhaps to welcoht, who countedtheir sins as nuols

Oh, this was very sweet, this picture of the life hereafter, the horrors of the natural world laid off upon a wise but distant God, and the Devil's folly rendered with such keen intelligence

Would that it were true, would that all the poes of the world were but a mirror of such hopeful splendor

It ht have brokenmy head and couldn't look at him

But a single incident fro encounter, looe for hts, so that as he went on and on, I couldn't banish this from my mind: that he, Lestat, had drunk the very blood of Christ on the road to Calvary That he, Lestat, had spoken to this God Incarnate, who by His oill had walked towards this horrible Death on Golgotha That he, Lestat, a fearful and tre witness had been made to stand in the narrow dusty streets of ancient Jerusale Lord, had, with the crossbeam of the crucifix strapped to His shoulders, offered His throat to Lestat, the chosen pupil

Ah, such fancy, this madness, such fancy I had not expected to be so hurt by anything in this tale I had not expected this to htness in my throat from which no words could escape I had not wanted this The only salvation of my wounded heart was to think how quaint and foolish it was that such a tableau- Jerusale God, now scourged and liend old and sweet of a woman with a Veil outstretched to wipe the bloody Face of Christ in coe

It does not take a scholar, David, to know such saints were made by other saints in centuries to come as actors and actresses chosen for a Passion Play in a country village Veronica! Veronica, whose very name means True Ikon

And our hero, our Lestat, our Proiven hihastly real No! and I will not! and coh the snows of New York, seeking only to be with us, turning his back on all of it

My head swam There was a war inside of me I couldn't look at him

On and on he went, going over it, talking again of the sapphiric Heavens and the angels' song, arguing with himself and with you and with Dora, and the conversation seelass I couldn't bear it