You would think such a day would tremble to begin . . .

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.

I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me.

I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti

I am the dragon, and you call me insane.

You would think such a day would tremble to begin . . .

Problem-solving is hunting; it is savage pleasure and we are born to it.