Problem-solving Is Hunting; It Is Savage Pleasure

But The Face On The Pillow, Rosy In The Firelight, Is Certainly That Of Clarice Starling, And She Sleeps Deeply, Sweetly, In The Silence Of The Lambs.

… It Is Not Healing To See Your Childhood Home, But It Helps You Measure Whether You Are Broken, And How And Why, Assuming You Want To Know.

We Can Only Learn So Much And Live.

How Seldom We Recognize The Sound When The Bolt Of Our Fate Slides Home.

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.