Dede Tate: You're crabby today.
Fred Tate: I'm not crabby, I'm pensive.
Nell: Chicka, chicka, chickabee. / T'ee an me an t'ee an me. / Ressa, ressa, ressa me, / Chicka, chicka, chickabee.
Jack Crawford: Starling?
Clarice Starling: Sir?
Jack Crawford: Miggs is dead.
Clarice Starling: Dead? How?
Jack Crawford: Well, the orderly heard Lecter whispering to him all afterrnoon and Miggs crying. They found him at bed check. He swallowed his own tongue.
Clarice Starling: If you didn't kill him, then who did, sir?
Hannibal Lecter: Who can say. Best thing for him, really. His therapy was going nowhere.
Katie Chandler: See that's all I want to do Billy-Boy. I want to leap of this pier and fly high in the air with hang with the wind and drift through the clouds, and at night, with the Moon full and the sea wild, I meet my lover high on a cliff and we'd swoop down into the ocean and swim all the way touch the bottom up through the dark water and break the surface. Then we'd fly to Jamaica for Pina Colatas... God, I wish I could do that.
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