Quotes from Stephen King

The most important things are the hardest to say

she might have been pretty when she started out, but the world had moved on since then.

It's how we see the world that keeps the darkness beyond at bay. Keeps it from pouring through and devouring us. I think all of us might know that, way down deep.

Fiction is the truth inside the lie

What's ka?" Eddie's voice was truculent. "I never heard of it. Except if you say it twice you come out with the baby word for shit.

Charity had discovered there were things you didn't want to tell. Shame wasn't the reason. Sometimes it was just better-kinder- to keep up a front

She didn't like seeing that look in his face, but she wanted to see it there, she did. He was a man, wasn't he? And sometimes men had to learn what it was to be afraid of a woman.

Instead of going into the bar, where dark shadows sat sampling the tasty waters of oblivion

It was wrong, but sometimes you have to break a few eggs in order to make an omelette.

Even when lightning flashes inside them... we say they are only clouds and turn our attention to the next meal, next pain, next breath, the next page. This is how we go on.

95% of the people who walk the earth are inert, Johnny. 1% are saints, and 1% are assholes. The other 3% do what they say they can do.

Ah, it's a real pit. Sort of place where they eat what they run over on the road. Gorillaville. You eat the beer, then you drink

Time healed all wounds. Of course, as some wag had pointed out, it also wounds all heels.

She was eighty-five, and her sleep was as thin as her skin.

All I know is what's past is past, and what's ahead is ahead. The second is ka, and takes care of itself.

Prophecy is the gift of God and everyone has a smidge of it.

there's no sense worrying about what you can't control. Doing that is a good way to go crazy.

I think only your mother can truly make you feel lower than whale shit.

But it was the first time I had ever really used the place I knew and the things I felt in a piece of fiction, and there was a kind of dreadful exhiliration in seeing things that had troubled me for years come out in a new form, a form over which I had imposed control.

I understood it, the boy said. It was a game, wasn't it? Do grown men always have to play games? Does everything have to be an excuse for another kind of game? Do any men grow up or do they only come of age? You don't know everything, the gunslinger said, trying to hold his slow anger. No. But I know what I am to you. And what is that? The gunslinger asked tightly. A poker chip.

Because ka was like a fish, ka was like a sand dune, ka was like a wheel that didn't want to stop but only to roll on and on, crushing whatever might happen to be in its path. A wheel of many spokes.

The feel of the sticky wetness down there when she moved made her grimace. God, she wanted to get cleaned up. In a hurry.

Art consists of the persistence of memory.

VERY WELL, ROLAND OF GILEAD. 'VERY WELL, EDDIE OF NEW YORK. 'VERY WELL, SUSANNAH OF NEW YORK. 'VERY WELL, JAKE OF NEW YORK. 'VERY WELL, OY OF MID-WORLD.