… It Is Not Healing To See

He Moves Smoothly And Slowly, Carrying His Concentration Like A Brimming Cup.

It Occurred To Dr. Lecter In The Moment That With All His Knowledge And Intrusion, He Could Never Entirely Predict Her, Or Own Her At All. He Could Feed The Caterpillar, He Could Whisper Through The Chrysalis; What Hatched Out Followed Its Own Nature And Was Beyond Him. He Wondered If She Had The .45 On Her Leg Beneath The Gown. Clarice Starling Smiled At Him Then, The Cabochons Caught The Firelight And The Monster Was Lost In Self-congratulation At His Own Exquisite Taste And Cunning.

A Census Taker Tried To Quantify Me Once. I Ate His Liver With Some Fava Beans And A Big Amarone. Go Back To School, Little Starling.

You Will Not Persuade Me With Appeals To My Intellectual Vanity.

Hannibal At Eighteen Was Rooting For Mephistopheles And Contemptuous Of Faust, But He Only Half-listened To The Climax. He Was Watching And Breathing Lady Murasaki...