The bird with the thorn in its breast, it follows an immutable law; it is driven by it knows not what to impale itself, and die singing. At the very instant the thorn enters there is no awareness in it of the dying to come; it simply sings and sings until there is not the life left to utter another note. But we, when we put the thorns in our breasts, we know. We understand. And still we do it. Still we do it.
Colleen McCullough, The Thorn Birds
It was really good to spend some time with my book collection on Saturday. And yes, I really did go through every single one to find my favorite First Line, Dedication, and Last Line. I even reorganized my shelves to make room for the new ones I’ve recently acquired. I pulled out the books I haven’t read yet and gave those a shelf of their own. I did leave the multitudes of John Grisham, Tom Clancy, and Stephen King, along with several sports and political books, that belong to my husband. Those may get read eventually, but they are not high on my To Read list for now. OK…I do want to read the Stephen Kings. But those pretty much have a shelf of their own as it is!
I had a few contenders to this category at first. And then I got to Thomas Harris. And he just wins everything. When it comes to shock factor, creep factor, and just down right leaving an impression, you really just can’t beat Thomas Harris.
And that’s really the whole point of a last line, right? Especially when there’s going to be another book. Look at this. *shudder*
After I read that, all the other pictures I had taken of last lines got deleted. If watching Hannibal hadn’t made me want to go back and reread the trilogy…that last line did. Man, oh, Man, Mr. Harris. You give me nightmares, in the absolute best way possible. (Is that weird? That might be a bit weird…)