ARMAND: So soon? Without any of those answers you so longed for?
LOUIS: You said there were none.
ARMAND: But you asked the wrong questions. Do you know how few vampires have the stamina for immortality? How quickly they perish of their own will. The world changes. We do not. Therein lies the irony that ultimately kills us. I need you to make contact with this age.
LOUIS: Me? Don't you see? I'm not the spirit of any age! I'm at odds with everything and always have been!
ARMAND: That is the very spirit of your age. The heart of it. Your fall from grace has been the fall of a century.
LOUIS: And the vampires of the theatre?
ARMAND: Decadent, useless. They can't reflect anything. But you do. You reflect its broken heart. A vampire with a human soul. An immortal with a mortal's passion. You are beautiful, my friend. Lestat must have wept when he made you –
LOUIS: Lestat! You knew Lestat!
ARMAND: Yes I knew him. Knew him well enough not to mourn his passing.
LOUIS (V.O.): I felt a kind of peace at last. I had found the teacher which Lestat could never, I knew now, have been. I knew knowledge would never be withheld by Armand. It would pass through him as through a pane of glass.