Alfredo:
[to a party-goer] Let me speak to you about the, uh, "anatomy of terror."
Prospero:
[Interrupting] Terror? What would you know of terror, Alfredo? Your senses are much too blunt! What is "terror?" Come. [Leads the party into an adjoining chamber with a clock] Silence! [the clock ticks] Listen. Is it to awaken and hear the passing of time? Or is it the failing beat of your own heart? Or the footsteps of someone who, just a moment before, was in your room? But let us not dwell on terror. The knowledge of terror is vouchsafed only to the precious few.
The Masque of the Red Death [1964]
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