Quotes from Stephen King

It might be that the biggest division in the world isn't men and women but folks who like cats and folks who like dogs - (L.T.'s Theory of Pets)

George, I'm sorry!" he cried through his tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, I'm suh-suh-SORRY—" And then they were around him, his friends, and no one lit a match, and someone held him, he didn't know who, Beverly maybe, or maybe Ben, or Richie. They were with him, and for that little while the darkness was kind.

When we grow up, concepts gradually get easier and we leave the images to the poets

A man who loves money is a bastard, someone to be hated. A man who can't take care of it is a fool. You don't hate him, but you got to pity him.

Baby can you dig your man? He is a righteous man!

Sure I'd had second thoughts. But thoughts are not choices.

All I can say in my own defense is quot libros, quam breve tempus—so many books, so little time (and yes, I have the tee-shirt).

love is what moves the world, I've always thought ... it is the only thing which allows men and women to stand in a world where gravity always seems to want to pull them down ... bring them low ... and make them crawl

What it comes down to, Red, is some people refuse to get their hands dirty at all. That's called sainthood, and the pigeons land on your shoulders and crap all over your shirt.

There's an old joke about Alzheimer's: the good news is that you meet new people every day.

Stay hungry. It worked for Michelangelo, it worked for Picasso, and it works for a hundred thousand artists who do it not for love (although that might play a part) but in order to put food on the table. If you want to translate the world, you need to use your appetites. Does this surprise you? It shouldn't. There's no creation without talent, I give you that, but talent is cheap. Talent goes begging. Hunger is the piston of art.

Resurrection... ah, there's a word (that you should put right the fuck out of your mind and you know it).

Reading takes time, and the glass teat takes too much of it.

What a paragon of virtue you are, gunslinger! the man in black laughed.

Shadows were too black, and when a breeze stirred the trees, the shadows changed in a disquieting way.

I am eternal. I am the Eater of Worlds.

Thin clouds form, and the shadows lengthen out. They have no breadth, as summer shadows have; there are no leaves on the trees or fat clouds in the sky to make them thick. They are gaunt, mean shadows that bite the ground like teeth. As the sun nears the horizon, its benevolent yellow begins to deepen, to become infected, until it glares an angry inflamed orange. It throws a variegated glow over the horizon.

Imagination is a good servant, and a bad master.

Do they see the lethal insanity of a race to the brink of oblivion, and then over the edge? Apparently not. If they did, surely they wouldn't be racing to begin with. Or is it a simple failure of imagination? One doesn't like to think such a rudimentary failing could bring about the end, yet...

The idea that America exists in a culture of violence is bullshit. What America exists in is a culture of Kardashian.

You could get used to anything if you had to.

A man who doubts himself shouldn't have to try too hard for too long, not until he's seasoned.

You may wonder about long-term solutions. I assure you, there are none. All wounds are mortal. Take what's given. You sometimes get a little slack in the rope but the rope always has an end. So what? Bless the slack and don't waste your breath cursing the drop. A grateful heart knows that in the end we all swing.

For a woman a man will do many things that he'd turn his back on in an instant when alone; things he'd back away from, nine times out of ten, even when drunk adn with a bunch of his friends egging him on.