[in the final letter to Will]

My dear Will, you must be healed by now... on the outside at least, I hope you're not too ugly. What a collection of scars you have. Never forget who gave you the best of them, and be grateful, our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real. We live in a primitive time, don't we, Will? Neither savage nor wise. Half measures of the curse of it; any rational society would either kill me or put me to some use. Do you dream much, Will? I think of you often. Your old friend, Hannibal Lecter.