Quotes from Stephen King

She's held onto her sobriety better than she held into her husband.

Free samples are fine, but if you give people too much for-free, whether it's clothes or food or information, they come to expect it.

I always wondered about growing up. I bet it's mostly lies.

Frightened people live in their own special hell.

In retrospect, this seems to summarize all the insanity of that time. Guy is standing on top of a burning building. Helicopter arrives, hovers, drops a rope ladder. Climb up! the man leaning out of the helicopter's door shouts. Guy on top of burning building responds, Give me two weeks to think about it .

Writing about yourself seems to be a lot like sticking a branch into clear river-water and rolling up the muddy bottom.

He pointed toward the silhouettes on the side of the [bathrooms] instead--black cutout man, black cutout woman. The man had his legs apart, the woman had hers together. Pretty much the story of the human race in sign language.

The apartment was haunted by the ghost of her long departed cabbage.

She said there are evil men in the world, truly evil men. Sometimes we hear of them, but more often they work in absolute darkness.

A heartless creature is a loveless creature, and a loveless creature is a beast.

The lesson is that you're just an animal in a cage, no more than that, no better than that.

Pack up all my care and woe, blackbird, bye-bye

people loved their pets, often with a degree of openness they couldn't allow themselves to express toward other people.

When machines fail, when technology fails, when the conventional religion fails, people have got to have something. Even a zombin lurching through the night can seem pretty cheerful compared to the existential comedy/horror of the ozone layer dissolving under the combined assult of a million flurocarbon spray cans of deoderant. - The Mist

I tell you what, there's nothing like having a mother around when you're thinking of scary shit.

Everyone— black as well as white— thinks it's going to be better over the next jump of land.

Reality was deep, and it was far. It held many secrets and went on forever.

Same shit, different day, he thinks, but now the joy is gone and the sadness is back, the sadness that feels like something deserved, the price of some not-quite-forgotten betrayal.

Shit. The mind gets up to funny tricks, doesn't it? Shadows grow faces.

It was life, you were stuck with it, and all you could do was live it.

My first editor used to say that eighty-five per cent of what goes on in a novelist's head is none of his business, a sentiment I've never believed should be restricted to just writers.

I come to you and you see me whole,' he says. 'You love me all the way around the equator and not just for some story I wrote. When the door closes and the world's outside, we're eye to eye.

The man in black smiled. Shall we tell the truth then, you and I? No more lies? I thought we had been. But the man in black persisted as if Roland hadn't spoken. Shall there be truth between us, as two men? Not as friends, but as equals? There is an offer you will get rarely, Roland. Only equals speak the truth, that's my thought on't. Friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of regard. How tiresome!

What would his father do then? Go on, Johnny supposed. People had a way of doing that, just going on, pushing through with no particular drama, no big drumrolls.