Quotes from Stephen King

Dad-a-jum, dad-a-jiggers, goddam lobsters bit off your fingers, King said, and actually laughed.

Love me. My head is so bad tonight. Love me. Love me.

Pop culture writing is about ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. Literature is about extraordinary people in ordinary circumstances.

But suddenly his daddy was there, looking at him in mortal agony, and a sorrow so great that Danny's heart flamed within his chest. The mouth drew down in a quivering bow. "Doc," Jack Torrance said. "Run away. Quick. And remember how much I love you." "No," Danny said. "Oh Danny, for God's sake—" "No," Danny said. He took one of his father's bloody hands and kissed it. "It's almost over.

She felt like Captain Ahab, for the first time sighting his great white whale.

When he remembered to turn and look for it, the Talisman was gone.

Coincidence has been cancelled, honey," Susannah said. "What we're living in these days is more like the Charles Dickens version of reality.

All of this was well meaning bullshit. But bullshit is still bullshit and will never be mistaken for McDonald's secret sauce.

I want to make sure I remember what real ugly is. I might want to tell my grandchildren someday.

The battle-fire had dropped over him, burning him everywhere with its righteous heat, sizzling his sight, frying his synapses and roasting his heart in its holy glow.

Roll me in sugar and call me a fuckin jelly-doughnut!

Your friends drag you down, Gordie. Don't you know that? [...] Your friends do. They're like drowning guys that are holding onto your legs. You can't save them. You can only drown with them.

You can't blame human nature, and there was nothing more human than curiosity.

When you thought about it, it was sort of a blue-eyed wonder that women could love the best of them, let alone the rest of them.

Misery suffered did not justify misery to come.

If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it

You can't have everything, she thinks; into every life a little poop must fall. But sometimes you do get what you need. Which is really all a sane person can ask for.

Read and write four to six hours a day. If you cannot find the time for that, you can't expect to become a good writer

If you turned in a paper with writing on it, you were guaranteed a hook from Jake Epping of the LHS English Department, and if the writing was organized into actual paragraphs, you got at least a B-minus.

Thinking that if a person did begin considering supernatural possibilities, that person would no longer be able to think of himself as a completely sane person, and thinking about one's sanity was maybe not a good thing. It was like thinking about your heartbeat: if you had to go there, you might already be in trouble.

How we make large circles in earth for ourselves… Around we go, back to the start and the start is there again: resumption, which was ever the curse of daylight. How long before we see daylight again?

What an amazing day this has been, he thought. What a perfectly amazing day . . . and it's not even one in the afternoon yet.

Castle Rock Middle School was a frowning pile of red brick standing between the Post Office and the Library, a holdover from the time when the town elders didn't feel entirely comfortable with a school unless it looked like a reformatory.

How infinite was love, twining in and out of hope and memory like a braid with three strong strands, so much the Bright Tower of every human's life and soul.