You Know How Cats Do. They Hide

Shiloh Isn’t Haunted – Men Are Haunted. Shiloh Doesn’t Care.

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.

Gratitude’s Got A Short Half-life, Clarice.

It's Hard To Have Anything Isn't It? Rare To Get It, Hard To Keep It. This Is A Damn Slippery Planet.

There Is No Murder. We Make Murder, And It Matters Only To Us.