Famous Dr Hannibal Lecter Quotes From Silence Of The Lambs

Who’s the subject?”
“the psychiatrist – dr. Hannibal lecter,” crawford said.
a brief silence follows the name, always, in any civilized gathering.

[t]here is no consensus in the psychiatric community that dr. Lecter should be termed a
man. He has long been regarded by his professional peers in psychiatry, many of whom
fear his acid pen in the professional journals, as something entirely other. For
convenience, they term him “monster”.

Sss-sss-sss-sss-sss-sss…

Look at the blood!

Lecter is so lucid, so perceptive; he’s trained in psychiatry… And he’s a mass murderer.

A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

This thing, what is it in itself, in its own constitution? what is its substance and material?.

[on telephone] I do wish we could chat longer, but… I’m having an old friend for dinner. Bye.

The worm that destroys you is the temptation to agree with your critics, to get their approval.

i am having an old friend for dinner

no no no you were doing fine, you had been courteous and receptive to courtesy, you had established trust with the embarrassing truth about miggs, and now this ham-handed segue into your questionnaire tut-tut-tut it won’t do

I do wish we could chat longer, but I’m having an old friend for dinner.

According to this view, all that matters to art appreciation is beauty of form. The logical extreme of aestheticism turns out to be homicidal art. (taken from the book hannibal lecter & philosophy: the heart of the matter).

He could see that he had too many flowers in the room, and must add more to make it come back right again. Too many flowers was too many, but way too many was just right.

Five foot ten, strongly built, about a hundred and eighty pounds; hair blonde, eyes pale blue. He’d be about thirty-five now. He said he lived in Philadelphia, but he may have lied. That’s all I can remember, mum, but if I think of any more, I will let you know. Oh, and Senator, just one more thing: love your suit!

The exposition of atrocious torture instruments could not fail to appeal to a connoisseur of the worst in mankind. But the essence of the worst, the true asafoetida of the human spirit, is not found in the iron maiden or the whetted edge; elemental ugliness is found in the faces of the crowd.

Plum Island Animal Disease Research Facility. Sounds charming.

Put the f*cking lotion in the basket!

Why do you think he removes their skins, Agent Starling? Enthrall me with your acumen.

A census taker tried to quantify me once. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a big amarone. Go back to school, little starling.

The tragedy is not to die, but to be wasted.

The most stable elements, clarice, appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver.

between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.

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.

We assign a moment to decision, to dignify the process as a timely result of rational and conscious thought. But decisions are made of kneaded feelings; they are more often a lump than a sum.

I mus’t confess you, I’m giving very serious thought to eating your wife

This is from the Guinness Book of World Records, congratulating me on being the female FBI Agent who has shot and killed the most people.

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.

QUID PRO QUO

Graham had a lot of trouble with taste. Often his thoughts were not tasty. There were no effective partitions in his mind. What he saw and learned touched everything else he knew. Some of the combinations were hard to live with. But he could not anticipate them, could not block and repress. His learned values of decency and propriety tagged along, shocked at his associations, appalled at his dreams; sorry that in the bone arena of his skull there were no forts for what he loved. His associations came at the speed of light. His value judgments were at the pace of a responsive reading. They could never keep up and direct his thinking. He viewed his own mentality as grotesque but useful, like a chair made of antlers. There was nothing he could do about it.

Dr. Fell, do you believe a man could become so obsessed with a woman, from a single encounter?
could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her and find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight and ache for him?.

You would think such a day would tremble to begin . . .

Occasionally, on purpose, dr. Lecter drops a teacup to shatter on the floor. He is satisfied when it does not gather itself together. For many months now, he has not seen mischa in his dreams.

someday perhaps a cup will come together. Or somewhere starling may hear a crossbow string and come to some unwilled awakening, if indeed she even sleeps.

All good things to those who wait

Believe me, you don’t want Hannibal Lecter inside your head.

I ate his liver with some fava beans.

Problem solving is hunting. It’s a savage pleasure and we’re born to it.

There could be no objection to homicidal art as art. One could certainly object that an artwork made out of dead bodies is immoral, but from a purely aesthetic point of view, it could still be a rewarding aesthetic experience and hence a great work of art. (from the book hannibal lecter & philosophy: the heart of the matter).

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

What do you look at while you’re making up your mind? ours is not a reflective culture, we do no raise our eyes up to the hills. Most of the time we decide the critical things while looking at the linoleum floor of an institutional corridor, or whispering hurriedly in a waiting room with a television blatting nonsense.

[in a letter to Clarice] Your job is to craft my doom, so I am not sure how well I should wish you. But I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun. Ta-ta, “H.

Has the FBI learned something yet? The police around here don’t seem to have the first clue. [Clarice notices a moth] … I mean have you got like a description, fingerprints, anything like that?

you call this easy sir?

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

We live in a primitive time—don’t we, will?—neither savage nor wise. Half measures are the curse of it. Any rational society would either kill me or give me my books.

Well, Clarice – have the lambs stopped screaming?

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.

If I saw you everyday forever, I would remember this time.

We can only learn so much and live.

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…

People don’t always tell you what they are thinking. They just see to it that you don’t advance in life.

On a related subject, signore pazzi, I must confess to you: i’m giving serious thought to eating your wife.

Just put the shampoo in the basket

I have immunity from the Justice Department, and I have immunity from the Risen Jesus. And nobody beats the Riz!

He looked up and saw her and his breath stopped in his throat. His hands stopped too, still spread above the keyboard. Harpsichord notes do not carry, and in the sudden quiet of the drawing room they both heard him take his next breath.

The world will not be this way within the reach of my arm.

Mr. Gordon, good, uh… well Frederica used to work for Mrs. Lippman. Did you know her?

I drink your blood, I eat your flesh.

Ready when you are, Sergeant Pembrey.

Mason Verger doesn’t want to kill me any more than I want to kill him. He just wants to see me suffer in some unimaginable way. He is rather twisted, you know.

He could feed the caterpillar, he could whisper through the chrysalis; what hatched out followed its own nature and was beyond him.

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it’s told.

Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things. Not about this case, though. About yourself. Quid pro quo. Yes or no?

It occurred to dr. Lecter in the moment that with all his knowledge and intrusion, he could never entirely predict her, or own her at all. He could feed the caterpillar, he could whisper through the chrysalis; what hatched out followed its own nature and was beyond him. He wondered if she had the .45 on her leg beneath the gown.
clarice starling smiled at him then, the cabochons caught the firelight and the monster was lost in self-congratulation at his own exquisite taste and cunning.

(to dog) That’s right precious, it will get the hose.

You know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube. A well scrubbed, hustling rube with a little taste. Good nutrition’s given you some length of bone, but you’re not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you, Agent Starling? And that accent you’ve tried so desperately to shed: pure West Virginia. What is your father, dear? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? You know how quickly the boys found you… all those tedious sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars… while you could only dream of getting out… getting anywhere… getting all the way to the FBI.

I’ll confess it is pleasant to look at you asleep. You’re quite beautiful, clarice.

She was charming way a cub is charming, a small cub that will grow up to be like one of the big cats. One you can’t play with later.

Bowels in or bowels out?

I know what you’re afraid of. It’s not pain, or solitude. It’s indignity you can’t stand, hannibal, you’re like a cat that way.

It’s hard and ugly to know someone can understand you without even liking you.

Quid pro quo.

It puts the lotion on it’s skin, or else it gets the hose again.

She wanted to go inside. She wanted to go in, wanting it as we want to jump from balconies, as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train.

What he has in addition is pure empathy and projection,” dr. Bloom said. “he can assume your point of view, or mine – and maybe some other points of view that scare and sicken him. It’s an uncomfortable gift, jack. Perception’s a tool that’s pointed on both ends.

If you can’t keep up with the conversation, better not try to join in at all.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I’m going to cut you loose. With all due respect, doctor, if you f*ck with me i’ll shoot you dead, here and now. Do you understand that?”- clarice

“perfectly.”- hannibal lecter

“do right and you’ll live through this.” -clarice.