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

Funerals often make us want sex-it's one in the eye for death.

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.

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.

There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named -- the happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt.

I love myself that much and I will never apologize to you.

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.