"Should I not?" Lestat cants his head back at Rorschach, in equal and opposite measure. Amusement plays over his generous mouth instead of solemnity now, but it's the amusement of a joke shared between two like minds.

"We perch above a frontier. Will frontier justice not suffice?" It seems eminently sensible to him, as well as inevitable. Sooner or later, some transgression of note against the peace will occur, and the fine people of Milton will demand their pound of flesh.

"If we were to institute a court, who would preside over it? If there was to be a jail, who would guard it? What provisions would be made for a lawbreaker to be clothed and fed at the expense of others? No - such things would be intolerable, and swift to tyranny. The swift and righteous fall of judgment is to be preferred, is it not?"