Thomas Harris
Thomas Harris
Thomas Harrisis an American writer, best known for a series of suspense novels about his most famous character, Hannibal Lecter. All of his works have been made into films, the most notable being the multi-Oscar-winning The Silence of the Lambs, which became only the third film in Academy Award history to sweep the Oscars in major categories...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionScreenwriter
Date of Birth11 April 1940
CityJackson, TN
CountryUnited States of America
The advantage of beating a mute is he can't tell on you.
When Will Graham could open his right eye, he saw the clock and knew where he was- an intensive-care unit. He knew to watch the clock. Its movement assured him that this was passing, would pass. That's what it was there for.
Intense fear comes in waves; the body can't stand it for long at a time.
In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. All the chambers are not lovely, light and high. There are holes in the floor of the mind, like those in a medieval dungeon floor - the stinking oubliettes, named for forgetting, bottle-shaped cells in solid rock with the trapdoor in the top. Nothing escapes from them quietly to ease us. A quake, some betrayal by our safeguards, and sparks of memory fire the noxious gases - things trapped for years fly free, ready to explode in pain and drive us to dangerous behavior...
What does he do, Clarice? What is the first and principal thing he does, what need does he serve by killing? He covets. How do we begin to covet? We begin by coveting what we see every day.
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.
Typhoid and swans - it all comes from the same place.
The worm that destroys you is the temptation to agree with your critics, to get their approval.
Back at his chair he cannot remember what he was reading. He feels the books beside him to find the one that is warm.
… 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.
He was numb except for dreading the loss of numbness.
You know how cats do. They hide to die. Dogs come home.
Before Me you are a slug in the sun. You are privy to a great Becoming and you recognize nothing. You are an ant in the after-birth.It is in your nature to do one thing correctly: before Me you rightly tremble. Fear is not what you owe Me, Lounds, you and the other pismires. You owe Me awe.
Over this odd world, this half the world that's dark now, I have to hunt a thing that lives on tears.