I Am The Dragon, And You Call

Spaces Devoted To Hannibal Lecter’s Earliest Years Differ From The Other Archives In Being Incomplete. Some Are Static Scenes, Fragmentary, Like Painted Attic Shards Held Together By Blank Plaster. Other Rooms Hold Sound And Motion, Great Snakes Wrestling And Heaving In The Dark And Lit In Flashes. Pleas And Screaming Fill Some Places On The Grounds Where Hannibal Himself Cannot Go. But The Corridors Do Not Echo Screaming, And There Is Music If You Like.

Good-bye Clarice. Will You Let Me Know If Ever The Lambs Stop Screaming?" "yes." Pembry Was Taking Her Arm. It Was Go Or Fight Him. "yes," She Said. "i'll Tell You." "do You Promise?""yes.

I Think It's Easy To Mistake Understanding For Empathy - We Want Empathy So Badly. Maybe Learning To Make That Distinction Is Part Of Growing Up. It's Hard And Ugly To Know Somebody Can Understand You Without Even Liking You.

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.

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.