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.

I found, and find, the scrutiny of Dr. Lecter uncomfortable, intrusive, like the humming of your thoughts when they x-ray your head.

… 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.

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.

Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness except greed.

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