I'm doing one of three things: I'm writing. I'm staring out the window. Or I'm writhing on the floor.
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They sat in a row on the couches and in wheelchairs listening to the radio, their faded eyes fixed on the fish or on nothing or something they saw a long time ago.
Francis would always remember the shuffle of feet on linoleum in the hot and buzzing day, and the smell of stewed tomatoes and cabbage from the kitchen, the smell of old people like meat wrappers dried in the sun, and always the radio.
She didn't give a damn about some of them, but she had grown to learn that inattention can be a stratagem to avoid pain, and that it is often misread as shallowness and indifference.
Thomas HarrisMots clés psychology
I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti
Thomas HarrisMots clés gourmand cannibalism
When the Fox hears the Rabbit scream he comes a-runnin', but not to help.
Thomas HarrisHello Clarice...
Thomas HarrisMots clés horror
Ready when you are Sergeant Pempbry.
Thomas HarrisHow seldom we recognize the sound when the bolt of our fate slides home.
Thomas HarrisIt rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it is told.
Thomas HarrisLecter is so lucid, so perceptive; he's trained in psychiatry... and he's a mass murderer.
Thomas HarrisMots clés chilton hannibal-lecter
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