Quotes from Stephen King

At three in the morning the gaudy paint is off that old whore, the world, and she has no nose and a glass eye. Gaiety becomes hollow and brittle, as in Poe's castle surrounded by the Red Death. Horror is destroyed by boredom. Love is a dream.

There may be some truth in that idea houses absorb the emotions that are spent in them

By tomorrow at this time, I think you're going to have a much better idea of what crazy is. -- Ev Hillman

The woman had looked into the abyss and then walked out across it.

Nobody was really surprised when it happened, not really, not on the subconscious level where savage things grow.

Big Jim - Take a good look, pal - this is what incompetency, false hope, and too much informations gets you. They're just unhappy and disappointed now, but when they get over that, they'll be mad. We're gonna need more police.

You need to get in the Baptist way of churching, son. Ours welcomes newcomers. You can take this place, and maybe some Sunday you can come with me n my wife.' 'Maybe so,' I agreed, reminding myself to be in a coma that Sunday. Possibly dead.

I want to tell you something else, something I'm really starting to believe: I'm going to be okay. Not today, not tomorrow, and not next week, but eventually. As okay as we mortals are privileged to get, anyway. It's good to know that—good to know that survival is still an option, and that sometimes it even feels good. That sometimes it actually feels like victory.

I'm going out for a bottle of champagne. We're going to get bombed.

Save your hate for those who deserve it more.

no man really knows another man's heart

The Disney parks are scripted, and I hate that. Hate it. I think what they are doing down there in Orlando is fun-pimping...

Their faces were zealously blank, their eyes filled with bland fire.

Reading at meals is considered rude in polite society, but if you expect to succeed as a writer, rudeness should be the second-to-least of your concerns. The least of all should be polite society and what it expects. If you intend to write as truthfully as you can, your days as a member of polite society are numbered, anyway

One of the few things my father says when he's had a few that I agree with is that kids don't have much balls in this generation. Some of them are trying to start the revolution by bombing U.S. government washrooms, but none of them are throwing Molotov cocktails at the Pentagon.

He's got all sorts of strange ideas to catch up on.

The terror, which would not end for another twenty-eight years–if it ever did end–began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.

I think houses live their own lives along a time-stream that's different from the ones upon which their owners float, one that's slower. In a house, especially an old one, the past is closer.

When I was younger, I used to vacillate between thinking love was this great and glorious mystery and thinking it was just something a bunch of Hollywood move producers made up to sell more tickets in the Depression, when Dish Night kind of played out. Eddie laughed. Now I think that all of us are born with a hole in our hearts, and we go around looking for the person who can fill it. You...Eddie, you fill me up.

He could not say goodbye to these three rooms as he could to a house he had loved: hotel rooms accepted departures emotionlessly.

I never think of stories as made things; I think of them as found things. As if you pull them out of the ground, and you just pick them up. Someone once told me that that was me low-balling my own creativity. That might or might not be the case. But still, on the story I am working on now, I do have some unresolved problem. It doesn't keep me awake at nights. I feel like when it comes down, it will be there...

I don't want to hear the scary part. But at the same time she does want to hear the scary part, everyone wants to hear the scary part, we're all mad here, and her mother really did say that if you told your dreams they wouldn't come true, which meant you were supposed to tell the nightmares and save the good ones for yourself, hide them like a tooth under the pillow.

Hearts were made to be broken and minds were made to be changed...

And when the end comes, and when it is as horrible as good men always knew it would be, there is only one thing to say as all those good men approach the Throne of Judgment: I was misled.