Quotes from Stephen King

Feeling it, trying to understand the suns that shone on it, the rains that fell on it, and the snows that covered it. And to wonder where I was when each thing happened to it in its lonely place, where I was, what I was doing, who I was loving, how I was getting along, where I was. I'd hold it, read it, feel it... and look at my own face in whatever reflection might be left.

Payback is a bitch, and the bitch is back.

Homesickness is not always a vague, nostalgic, almost beautiful emotion, although that is somehow the way we always seem to picture it in our mind. It can be a terribly keen blade, not just a sickness in metaphor but in fact as well. It can change the way one looks at the world; the faces one sees in the street look not just indifferent but ugly... perhaps even malignant. Homesickness is a real sickness--the ache of the uprooted plant.

Things were going very fast now. Too fast to suit him. Fantasy and reality had merged.

Clear communication between selves - the surface self and the deep self - is the enemy of self-doubt. It slays confusion.

It's like the old pie-in-the-face routine: it stops being funny when it starts being you.

Sixty-four has a way of forgetting what twenty-one was like.

If I may borrow from George R. R. Martin, she is my sun and stars.

he was after all, a novelist...and a novelist was simply a fellow who got paid to tell lies. The bigger the lies, the better the pay.

People hurt the ones they love. That's how it is all around the world.

The expression Jake saw on all the faces, oldest to youngest, was the same: pure joy. Not just that, he thought, and remembered a phrase his English teacher had used about how some books make us feel: the ecstasy of perfect recognition.

He thought that fat boys were probably only allowed to love pretty girls inside. If he told anyone how he felt (not that he had anyone to tell), that person would probably laugh until he had a heart-attack.

Grab onto my arm now. Hold tight. We are going into a number of dark places, but I think I know the way. Just don't let go of my arm. And if I should kiss you in the dark, it's no big deal; it's only because you are my love.

When there is love, scars are as pretty as dimples.

Whenever I see a first novel dedicated to a wife (or a husband), I smile and think, There's someone who knows . Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference. They don't have to make speeches. Just believing is usually enough.

Dreams age faster than dreamers.

If you disaprove, I can only shrug my shoulders. It's what I have.

I hate the assumption that you can't write about something because you haven't experienced it, and not just because it assumes a limit on the human imagination, which is basically limitless. It also suggests that some leaps of identification are impossible. I refuse to accept that, because it leads to the conclusion that real change is beyond us, and so is empathy. The idea is false on the evidence. Like shit, change happens.

A cat won't curry favor even if it's in their best interests to do so. A cat can't be a hypocrite. If more preachers were like cats, this would be a more religious country.

When you get old, peace is about all you want.

A kid of your age—any kid—could get hold of matches if she wanted to, burn up the house or whatever. But not many do. Why would they want to?

Nothing lasts forever,' Richie repeated. He looked up at Bill, and Bill saw tears cut slowly through the dirt on Richie's cheeks. 'Except maybe for love,' Ben said. 'And desire,' Beverly said.

How life did imitate art sometimes. And the cruder the art, the closer the imitation.

Words had a way of creating their own imperatives.