Quotes from Stephen King

May you have long days and pleasant nights.

folk-tales are, at best, generally no more than lies set in rhyme.

Sometimes, the past don't rest so easy. Why else do people study history?

The wind sighed through the trees, and the fallen leaves rattled up the deserted walks and around the hubcaps of parked cars. It was a faint and sorrowful sound, and the boy thought that he might be the only one in Boulder awake enough to hear it.

All I have is intuition and a little hope." "Don't be such a pessimist. You've also got two tires, two garbage bags, and a hollow spindle.

It was the look of some woman in a third world country, watching as her village burned.

Sometimes... real love is silent as well as blind.

It's really just paint. I muse on that, sometimes, Jamie. When I can't sleep. How a little paint can make shallow water seem deep.

The multiple choices and possibilities of daily life are the music we dance to. They are like strings on a guitar. Strum and you create a pleasing sound. A harmonic.

Probably on one of those NPR shows where everyone sounds smart and full of Prozac

History is the collective and ancestral shit of the human race, a great big and ever-growin pile of crap. Right now we're standin at the top of it, but pretty soon we'll be buried under the doodoo of generations yet to come. That's why folks' clothes look so funny in old photographs, to name but a single example. And, as someone who's destined to be buried beneath the shit of your children and grandchildren, I think you should be just a leetle more forgiving.

Because—dig it—when it comes to death, what can you do but laugh?

George Orwell knew when he wrote 1984: if you say a thing often enough, it will be accepted as truth.

The real importance of reading is that it creates an ease and intimacy with the process of writing; one comes to the country of the writer with one's papers and identification pretty much in order.

I thought of asking her if it freaked her out to look up at night and see the stars and know they go on forever and ever, but didn't bother. I just said no. You get used to marvelous things. You take them for granted. You can try not to, but you do. There's too much wonder, that's all. It's everywhere.

Time's a reach, too, you know, just like the one that lies between the islands and the mainland, but the only ferry that can cross it is memory, and that's like a ghost-ship—if you want it to disappear, after awhile it will.

Down the hall I could hear the thud of basketballs, the blare of the time-out horn, and the shouts of the crowd as the sports-beasts fought: Lisbon Greyhounds versus Jay Tigers. Who can know when life hangs in the balance, or why?

lies and love rarely went together, and never for long.

Too late always comes too early. She

And watch out for the blade, Constant Reader. It is a Stephen King story, after all.

eighty-five per cent of what goes on in a novelist's head is none of his business

Part of her wanted to run. Never mind how flowing water was bound to take her to people eventually, all that was likely just a crock of Little House of the Prairie shit.

If you drop a book into the toilet, you can fish it out, dry it off and read that book. But if you drop your Kindle in the toilet, you're pretty well done.

it's perfectly okay to paraphrase Nietzche: if you keep your focus, eventually your focus will keep you. Sometimes without parole.