Status Updates From Ганнибал

This entire section has made me hungry for olive garden. How I felt spotting a rhetorical device: 😎. I knew he was going to die because he peeled an orange with a knife.

“The wind off the Chesapeake gains strength, who’s the candle flames until they gutter out, sings through the strings of the harpsichord in the dark - now an accidental tune, now a thin scream from long ago.”

“He prefers the sound and feel of the harpsichord; because it is not possible to control the volume of the quill-plucked strings, the music arrives like experience, sudden and entire.”

“Her car amused him it was at once whimsical and terribly efficient.”

“Mischa loved dark purple, loved the color aubergine, as long as she lived.”

“First, he sketched her face…in it starling looks like a child and her hair, like Mischa’s, is stuck to her cheek with tears,”

“Since this partial answer to his prayer, Hannibal Lecter had not been bothered by any considerations of deity, other than to recognize how his own modest predations paled beside those of God, who is in irony matchless, and in wanton malice beyond measure.”

“How many like him had been wasted by stupidity and selfishness and the bargaining of tired old men. Whether you believe in God or not, if you are a warrior Arlington is a sacred place, and the tragedy is not to die, but to be wasted.”

"And so, with small steps, Clarice Starling began to pursue Dr. Lecter down the corridors of his taste, with more confidence in her footing than was entirely justified."

"The first step in the development of taste is to be willing to credit your own opinion."

"'You can trust me, you know, though I expect you find trust difficult, knowing yourself.'"

"'Take some deep breaths while you can, and clear your head.'"

"Going out of the soft light...they seemed to carry the spell of the lecture with them."

"Dr. Lecter sometimes entertained the illusion that he could smell with his hands, his arms and cheeks, that odor suffused him. That eh could smell with his face and his heart. For good, anatomic reasons, scent fosters memory more readily than any other sense. Here Dr. Lecter had fragments and flashes of memory as he stood beneath the soft light,"

"For him the air was painted with scents as distinct and vivid as colors, and he could layer and feather them as though painting wet-on-wet. Here there was nothing of jail. Here the air was music."

"His eyes open and he is suddenly, completely awake, his dream of his sister Mischa, long dead and digested, running seamlessly into this present waking: danger then, danger now. Knowing he is in danger did not disturb his sleep any more than killing the pickpocket did."

"'Our freedom is worth more than the monster's life. Out happiness is more important than his suffering,' he though with the cold egoism of the damned."

"The screaming was awful to hear, but a fitting overture for the faces that came out of the woods, drawn to the screams announcing dinner."

These are some really arrogant Italians. What kind of freaks go to a medieval torture exhibit as foreplay?