When the Fox hears the Rabbit scream he comes a-runnin', but not to help.
Nothing made me happen. I happened.
I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti
Being smart spoils a lot of things, doesn't it?
The tragedy is not to die, but to be wasted.
It's fear, Jack. The man deals with a huge amount of fear.' Because he got hurt?' No, not entirely. Fear comes with imagination, it's a penalty, it's the price of imagination.
It's hard to have anything isn't it? Rare to get it, hard to keep it. This is a damn slippery planet.
She didn't give a damn about some of them, but she had grown to learn that inattention can be a stratagem to avoid pain, and that it is often misread as shallowness and indifference.
Are you looking for sympathy? You'll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis
Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness except greed.
We can only learn so much and live.
Silence can mock.
We live in a primitive time—don’t we, Will?—neither savage nor wise. Half measures are the curse of it. Any rational society would either kill me or give me my books.
I'm not sure you get wiser as you get older, Starling, but you do learn to dodge a certain amount of hell.
I'm doing one of three things: I'm writing. I'm staring out the window. Or I'm writhing on the floor.
The worm that destroys you is the temptation to agree with your critics, to get their approval.
Fear comes with imagination, it’s a penalty, it’s the price of imagination.
Over this odd world, this half the world that's dark now, I have to hunt a thing that lives on tears.
What does he do, Clarice? What is the first and principal thing he does, what need does he serve by killing? He covets. How do we begin to covet? We begin by coveting what we see every day.
The most stable elements, Clarice, appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver. Between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.
I'm giving serious thought into eating yor wife” - Hannibal Lecter
Did you ever think, Clarice, why the Philistines don't understand you? It's because you are the answer to Samson's riddle. You are the honey in the lion.
Problem-solving is hunting; it is savage pleasure and we are born to it.
I love myself that much and I will never apologize to you.
You would think such a day would tremble to begin . . .
You must understand that when you are writing a novel you are not making anything up. It's all there and you just have to find it.
The advantage of beating a mute is he can't tell on you.
If I saw you everyday forever, I would remember this time.
He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart.
There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named -- the happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt.
I am the dragon, and you call me insane.
It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it is told.
You know how cats do. They hide to die. Dogs come home.
I expect most psychiatrists have a patient or two they'd like to refer to me.
… 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.
God's creatures who cried themselves to sleep stirred to cry again.
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.
Back at his chair he cannot remember what he was reading. He feels the books beside him to find the one that is warm.
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.
On a related subject, Signore Pazzi, I must confess to you: I'm giving serious thought to eating your wife.
Lecter is so lucid, so perceptive; he's trained in psychiatry... and he's a mass murderer.
How seldom we recognize the sound when the bolt of our fate slides home.
I'll confess it is pleasant to look at you asleep. You're quite beautiful, Clarice.
Can you smell his sweat? That peculiar goatish odor is trans-3-methyl-2 hexenoic acid. Remember it, it's the smell of schizophrenia.
I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me.
Shiloh isn’t haunted – men are haunted. Shiloh doesn’t care.
One can only see what one observes, and one observes only things which are already in the mind.
Life's too slippery for books, Clarice; anger appears as lust, lupus presents as hives.
Nothing happened to me, Officer Starling. I happened. You can't reduce me to a set of influences.
He was numb except for dreading the loss of numbness.
Gratitude’s got a short half-life, Clarice.
Evil's just destructive? Then storms are evil, if it's that simple. And we have fire, and there there's hail. Underwriters lump it all under 'Acts of God.
One quality in a person doesn't rule out any other quality. They can exist side by side, good and terrible. Socrates said it a lot better.
I have no plans to call on you, Clarice, the world being more interesting with you in it.
Don't think you can persuade me with appeals to my intellectual vanity.
We routinely leave our small children in day care among strangers. At the same time, in our guilt we evince paranoia about strangers and foster fear in children.
It occured to Starling how much Roden would benefit from an elbow smash in the hinge of his jaw.
The very air had screams smeared on it. He flinched from the noise in this silent room.
Intense fear comes in waves; the body can’t stand it for long at a time.
He knew that a middle-aged man can be so desperate for wisdom he may try to make some up, and how deadly that can be to a youngster who believes him.
The first step in the development of taste is to be willing to to credit your own opinion.
Orion is above the horizon now, and near it Jupiter, brighter than it will ever be ... But i expect you can see it too. Some of our stars are the same.
And your dinner for the orchestra officials." "Haven't you ever had people coming over and no time to shop? You have to make do with what's in the fridge, Clarice. May I call you Clarice?
He moves smoothly and slowly, carrying his concentration like a brimming cup.
Because it's his bad luck to be the best.
She wanted to go inside. She wanted to go in, wanting it as we want to jump from balconies, as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train.
The longing need to be noticed that is often miscalled ego.
There is no murder. We make murder, and it matters only to us.
It would be so nice to be wanted by someone with the courage to get his hat or stay as he damn pleased, and who gave her credit for the same. Someone who didn't worry about her.
In making friends, she was wary of people who foster dependency and feed on it. She had been involved with a few--the blind attract them, and they are the enemy.
We don't begin to covet with imagined things. Coveting is a very literal sin–we begin to covet with tangibles, we begin with what we see every day.
It's hard and ugly to know someone can understand you without even liking you.
... the washing machine's rhythm was like a giant heartbeat, and the rush of its waters was what the unborn hear- our last memory of peace.
Ready when you are Sergeant Pempbry.
She was charming way a cub is charming, a small cub that will grow up to be like one of the big cats. One you can't play with later
He could see that he had too many flowers in the room, and must add more to make it come back right again. Too many flowers was too many, but way too many was just right.
Every person is worth your time, Hannibal. If at first appearance a person seems dull, then look harder, look into him.
We assign a moment to decision, to dignify the process as a timely result of rational and conscious thought. But decisions are made of kneaded feelings; they are more often a lump than a sum.
Dr. Doemling, does he want to fuck her or kill her, or eat her, or what?' Mason asked, exhausting the possibilities he could see. 'Probably all three,' Dr. Doemling said.
Writing novels is the hardest thing I've ever done, including digging irrigation ditches.
When the fox hears a rabbit scream, he comes running, but not to help.
He could feed the caterpillar, he could whisper through the chrysalis; what hatched out followed its own nature and was beyond him.
You didn’t draw a freak. You drew a man with a freak on his back. Nothing wrong with you, kid.
It's hard to have anything, isn't it? Rare yo get it, hard to keep it. This is a damn slippery planet.
In the Green Machine there is no mercy; we make mercy, manufacture it in parts that have overgrown our basic reptile brain. There is no murder. We make murder, and it matters only to us.
Funerals often make us want sex—it’s one in the eye for death.
Baby needs a new pair of shoes,' he said. 'My baby doesn't need any shoes.
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...
You must understand that when you are writing a novel you are not making anything up.
Show Dr. Princi your teeth. That's right, let's see 'em all. Christ, Sparks, is that your tongue or are you swallowing a squirrel? Keep moving -
When you feel strain, keep your mouth shut if you can.
Pictures ... flashed on her in sudden color, too much color, shocking color, the color that leaps out of black when lightning strikes at night.
Pachelbel’s Canon filled the sun-drowned room where they learned each other and even then the fear flickered across him like an osprey’s shadow: This is too good to live for long.
The intimacy of the detail - why The Silence of the Lambs is quite possibly the Thriller Writer's bible.
Which do you think, Commendatore? Bowels in or out?
Almost every place has a moment of the day, an angle and intensity of light, in which it looks its best. When you're stuck someplace, you learn that time and you look forward to it.
The emperor counsels simplicity. First principles. Of each particular thing, ask: What is it in itself, in its own constitution? What is its causal nature?
