“…no amount of explanations to her which passed through
and through my mind now, even forming on my lips in desperate whispers as I
left the Rue St. Michel and went deeper and deeper into the older, darker
streets of the Latin Quarter, no amount of explanations seemed to soothe what I
imagined to be her grave dissatisfaction, or my own pain.

Finally I left off words except for a strange chant. I
was in the black silence of a medieval street, and blindly I followed its sharp
turns,… `I cannot make her happy, I do
not make her happy; and her unhappiness increases every day.’ This was my chant,
which I repeated like a rosary, a charm to change the facts, her inevitable
disillusionment with our quest, which left us in this limbo where I felt her
drawing away from me, dwarfing me with her enormous need.” – Louis de Pointe du Lac, Interview with the Vampire