In her way, she was a hard one. Faith in any sort of natural justice was nothing but a night light; she knew of that. Whatever she did, she would end the same way with everyone does: flat on her back with a tube in her nose, wondering, "Is this all?

You cant reduce me to a set of influences.

He sees very clearly - he damn sure sees through me. It's hard to accept that someone can understand you without wishing you well. At Starling's age it hadn't happened to her much.

Gratitude’s got a short half-life, Clarice.

It occured to Starling how much Roden would benefit from an elbow smash in the hinge of his jaw.

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.

… 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.