Quotes from Stephen King

Because sometimes longshots came in. Both for good and for ill.

Perhaps it wasn't all Freud after all. Perhaps a large part of it had to do with the invention of the electric light, which had killed the shadows in men's minds much more effectively than a stake through a vampire's heart—and less messily, too.

Writing may be masturbatory, but God forbid it should be an act off autocannibalism.

Oh Christ, he understood more than he wanted to right now. Give me a chance, Louis thought, and I'll understand myself right into the nearest mental asylum.

Good luck, good will, good fortune, not ill.

Also, I suppose I wanted to say goodbye to someone, and have someone say goodbye to me. The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the goodbyes that tell us we're still alive, after all.

I remember that I wanted to kill It,' Bill said, and for the first time (and ever after) he heard the pronoun gain proper-noun status in his own voice.

There's a crying shortage of pretty things in the slam, and the real pity of it is that a lot of men don't even seem to miss them.

Every big hotel has got a ghost. Why? Hell, people come and go Ã¢â'¬Â¦

Talk did no good with bullies. Hurting was the only language that the bullies of the world seemed to understand, and he supposed that was why the world always had such a hard time getting along.

His single-minded purpose. His unending fury.

The sun loses its thin grip on the air first, turning it cold, making it remember that winter is coming and winter will be long. 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.

Like all sweet dreams, it will be brief... but brevity makes sweetness, doesn't it? Yes, I think so. Because when the time is gone, you can never get it back.

Because it makes me happy when the words fall together and the picture comes and the make-believe people do things that delight me. But it's better with you, Constant Reader. Always better with you.

I go back to it, if only to remind myself that life isn't always a butcher's game. Sometimes the prizes are real. Sometimes they're precious.

What I didn't realize was how many doors the act of writing unlocks, as if my Dad's old fountain pen wasn't really a pen at all, but some strange variety of skeleton key.

Can a mordern city burn,' he asked Tom. 'One made mostly of concrete and metal and glass? Could it burn the way Chicago did after Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicked over the lantern?

Trump and his cronies took it all back. They understand culture no more than a donkey understands algebra.

Los Zapatos, which means the shoes ... was a small village not far from the ocean. It was fairly free of tourists. There was no good road, no ocean view ... and no historical points of interest. Also, the local cantina was infested with cockroaches and the only whore was a fifty-year-old grandmother.

You can, you should, and if you're brave enough to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up.

There's always a later, I know that now. At least until we die. Then I guess it's all before that.

Men still think the same things about us they have always thought, Ruth - I'm sure of it. A lot of them have learned to say the right things at the right times, but as my mother used to say, 'Even a cannibal can learn to recite the Apostles' Creed'.

They say that loving eyes can never see, but that's a fool's axiom. Sometimes they see too much.

the brain doesn't age, although its ideas about the world may harden and there's a greater tendency to run off at the mouth about how things were in the good old days.