Stephen King

Life is like a wheel. Sooner or later, it always come around to where you started again.

Every book you pick up has its own lesson or lessons, and quite often the bad books have more to teach than the good ones.

I am the literary equivalent of a Big Mac and fries.

People want to know why I do this, why I write such gross stuff. I like to tell them I have the heart of a small boy... and I keep it in a jar on my desk.

People think that I must be a very strange person. This is not correct. I have the heart of a small boy. It is in a glass jar on my desk.

Sometimes a man and a woman reach a crossroads and linger there, reluctant to take either way, knowing the wrong choice will mean the end... and knowing there’s so much worth saving.

Life turns on a dime. Sometimes towards us, but more often it spins away, flirting and flashing as it goes: so long, honey, it was good while it lasted, wasn’t it?

They're animals, all right. But why are you so goddam sure that makes us human beings?

The Tower. He would come to the Dark Tower and there he would sing their names; there he would sing their names; there he would sing all their names. The sun stained the east a dusky rose, and at last Roland, no longer the last gunslinger but one of the last three, slept and dreamed his angry dreams through which there ran only that one soothing blue thread: There I will sing all their names!

It's best to have your tools with you. If you don't, you're apt to find something you didn't expect and get discouraged.

Twas something else. I had come to hate her, you see. I had come to wish her dead, and that was what held me back.

sure, we need the gypsies. we always have. because if you don't have someone to run out of town once in a while, how are you going to know you yourself belong there?

If you've ever been homesick, or felt exiled from all the things and people that once defined you, you'll know how important welcoming words and friendly smiles can be.

All you imagined, no matter how wild it might seem, was no more than a disguised version of what you already knew.

You know," King said, "I'm not much good at telling stories. That sounds like a paradox, but it's not; it's the reason I write them down.

Anger is the most useless emotion," Henchick intoned, "destructive to the mind and hurtful to the heart.

Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot if difference. They don't have to makes speeches. Just believing is usually enough.

Although emotionally delicate and eminently bruisable, teenagers are short on empathy. That comes later in life, if it comes at all.

When you put on a clown suit and a rubber nose, nobody has any idea what you look like inside.

Panic is highly contagious, especially in situations when nothing is known and everything is in flux.

Home is watching the moon rise over the open, sleeping land and having someone you can call to the window, so you can look together. Home is where you dance with others, and dancing is life.