Explore Quotes by Stephen King

He was a romantic in his own harsh way…yet he was also realist enough to know that some times love actually did conquer all.

the only mortal sin is giving up.

if you tell yourself the great lie of bad art-that you are in charge-your chance at the truth will be lost. The truth isn't always pretty.

God always punishes us for what we can't imagine.

A man who can't bear to share his habits is a man who needs to quit them.

never's the word God listens for when he needs a laugh.

Shall there be truth between us, as two men? Not as friends, but as enemies and equals?

As it happened, all three of us turned out to be real writers--a coincidence almost too large to be termed mere coincidence in a society where literally tens of thousands (maybe hundreds of thousands) of college students aspire to the writer's trade and where bare hundreds actually break through.

Outlines are the last resource of bad fiction writers who wish to God they were writing masters' theses.

The greatest mystery the universe offers is not life but Size.

Do any men grow up or do they only come of age?

But this wealth of information produced little or no insight.

He was one of those quite rare adults who communicate with small children fairly well and who love them all impartially--not in a sugary way but in a businesslike fashion that may sometimes entail a hug, in the same way that closing a big business deal may call for a handshake.

Few if any seemed to have grasped the Principle of Reality; new knowledge leads always to yet more awesome mysteries. Greater physiological knowledge of the brain makes the existence of the soul less possible yet more probable by the nature of the search.

Why' is a crooked letter and can't be made straight.

How do we remember to remember? That's a question I've asked myself often since my time on Duma Key, often in the small hours of the morning, looking up into the absence of light, remembering absent friends. Sometimes in those little hours I think about the horizon. You have to establish the horizon. You have to mark the white. A simple enough act, you might say, but any act that re-makes the world is heroic. Or so I've come to believe.

Mister, we deal in lead.

How else could he go on, except with merciful incomprehension held before him like a shield? How could anyone?

Dolls with no little girls around to mind them were sort of creepy under any conditions.

But in high school the business of irrevocable choices began. Doors slipped shut with a faint locking click that was only heared clearly in the dreams of later years.

We'll just have to get along. That's what people do, you know? They just get along. And try to help each other.