Quotes from Stephen King

But most of all they only say you were caught, that you wanted to be King, that it must be so.

Goddam life, I say, if you can't laugh you might as well laugh anyway. That's my goddam attitude, and I'll stick by it; this ain't a sad world unless you're sane

That voice didn't have logic on its side, but it didn't need to. It had good lungs and just outscreamed logic.

Some things just have to be true, Scott said, because they have no other choice.

maybe, I thought, we were all circus mice, running around with only the dimmest awareness that God and all His heavenly host were watching us in our Bakelite houses through our ivy-glass windows.

She had grown up knowing you cared for the one who had fallen and couldn't get up. She had also grown up knowing you ate no shit - not about your hosses, your size, your line of work, or your sexual preferences. Once you started eating shit, it had a way of becoming your regular diet.

Once things were different, but now they're the same. He reckons he can live with that; for a guy like him, the rule of thumb is just SSDD, and so fucking what. You grew up, became a man, had to adjust to taking less than you hoped for; you discovered the dream-machine had a big OUT OF ORDER sign on it.

God loved rocks, houseflies, weeds, and poor people above all the rest of His creations, and that's why He made so many of them.

Tim Stoutheart was afraid, too," I said. "But he went on. I expect you to do the same.

Tyler rolls out of bed, sniffs the armpits of yesterday's T-shirt, tosses it aside, gets another out of the drawer. His dad sometimes asks him why he sets his alarm so early -- it's summer vacation, after all -- and Tyler can't seem to make him understand that every day is important, especially those filled with warmth and sunlight and no particular responsibilities. It's as if there's some little voice deep inside him, warning him not to waste a minute, not a single one, because time is short.

The ring rolled down the gutter and disappeared into a sewer grate, and there it remained for a long, long time. But not forever. In Derry, things that disappear into the sewer system have a way – an often unpleasant one – of turning up.

Confession may or may not be good for the soul, but it's undoubtedly soothing to the nerves.

If you're not bolted together tightly, you're gonna shake, rattle, and roll before you turn thirty.

Let me close with a word of caution: when you're on the turnpikes and freeways of America, watch out for those Winnebagos and Bounders. You never know who might be inside. Or what.

Un'idea è come un germe del raffreddore: prima o poi finisce che qualcuno lo prende.

he travels fastest who travels alone.

Maybe Shooter was a writer. He fulfilled both of the main requirements: he told a tale you wanted to hear to the end, even if you had a pretty good idea what the end was going to be, and he was so full of shit he squeaked.

Grits ain't groceries and revenge don't pay the bills.

you pay for what you get in this world. Maybe that's why God made us kids first and built us close to the ground, because He knows you got to fall down a lot and bleed a lot before you learn that one simple lesson. You pay for what you get, you own what you pay for...and sooner or later whatever you own comes back home to you.

It was the furthest thing in the world from the rosy-fingered dawn of poetry and old Technicolor movies; this was an anti-dawn, damp and as pale as the cheek of a day-old corpse.

Graffiti scratched on a desk of the Barker Street Grammar School in Chamberlain: Carrie White eats shit.

I read more than I had in years-novels, short stories, three long nonfiction books about how we had stumbled into the Iraq mess (the short answer appeared to have W for a middle initial and a dick for a Vice President).

That smile was dangerous, she thought - a quicksand smile if ever there was one. Easy to wander in; perhaps more difficult to wander back out.

Was it God that made magic, or was it magic that made God?