Life's too slippery for books, Clarice; anger appears as lust, lupus presents as hives.

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...

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.

He moves smoothly and slowly, carrying his concentration like a brimming cup.

When Will Graham could open his right eye, he saw the clock and knew where he was- an intensive-care unit. He knew to watch the clock. Its movement assured him that this was passing, would pass. That's what it was there for.

Back at his chair he cannot remember what he was reading. He feels the books beside him to find the one that is warm.

Nothing made me happen. I happened.