Hannibal Lecter:"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."
Clarice Starling:"You see a lot, Doctor; ⋯but are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? What about it; Why don't you- Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see? ⋯or maybe you're afraid to."