Stephen King

“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?”

“Then he closed his eyes and put his hands together again before his face, finger to finger. Johnny was struck by the kid's lack of pretension. There was a simplicity about the gesture that had been honed by use into beauty.”

“We have once again succeeded in destroying what we could not create.”

“If fiction and politics ever really do become interchangeable,I'm going to kill myself,because I won't know what else to do”

“I want to go to war," Eddie Dean said calmly. "You don't know what you're talking about," Roland said, "but you're going to find out."Eddie nodded. They went to their war.”

“Mostly I was just plain freaked. Not mentally tottering, I think a human mind that's moderately well-adjusted can absorb a lot of strangeness before it actually totters, but freaked, yes.”

“Por la noche los pensamientos tienen la desagradable costumbre de escapar de su correa y correr libremente.”

“Creo que todo sueño que se repite tiene algo de misterioso, pues nos hace percatarnos de que el inconsciente está cavando obsesivamente para desenterrar un objeto que se niega a salir.”

“Las personas con un alto nivel de tolerancia al aburrimiento tienen tiempo de sobra para pensar.”

“Los ojos se me llenaron de lágrimas. El dolor del duelo es como un invitado borracho, cuando parece que se ha marchado, vuelve a darte un último abrazo.”

“Me cae bien la gente que lee libros, y no sólo porque yo solía escribirlos. Los lectores de libros están tan dispuestos como cualquiera a iniciar una conversación con el tema del tiempo, pero son capaces de pasar de ahí.”

“Oigo voces en mi cabeza, y si no recuerdo mal, lo he hecho siempre.”

“Todo buen matrimonio es un territorio secreto, un espacio necesariamente en blanco en el mapa de la sociedad. Lo que los demás no saben de él es lo que lo hace tuyo.”

“Outside, a gusty October breeze was combing leaves from the trees and sending them across her backyard in colorful skitters.”

“We are going to fight. We are going to be hurt. And in the end, we will stand.”

“Soy tres mujeres. Soy la que era; soy la que no tenía derecho a ser pero era; soy la mujer a la que has salvado.Te doy las gracias, pistolero.”

“He didn’t know if that was really true or not, but he discovered something which was tremendously liberating: he didn’t care. He was very tired of thinking and thinking and still not knowing. He was also tired of being frightened, like a man who has entered a cave on a lark and now begins to suspect he is lost. Stop thinking about it, then. That’s the solution.”

“Rightly tired of the pain İ hear and feel, boss... where we's comin from or goin to or why... If İ could end it, İ would. But İ can't.”

“I’m often asked if I think the beginning writer of fiction can benefit from writing classes or seminars. The people who ask are, all too often, looking for a magic bullet or a secret ingredient or possibly Dumbo’s magic feather, none of which can be found in classrooms or at writing retreats, no matter how enticing the brochures may be.”

“You learn best by reading a lot and writing a lot, and the most valuable lessons of all are the ones you teach yourself.”

“There were no violins or warning bells when I pulled the janitor’s theme off the top of the stack and set it before me, no sense that my little life was about to change. But we never know, do we? Life turns on a dime.”

“Sometimes God dillies and dallies,’ Steve said, ‘and sometimes he just points at you and tells you to hang up your jock.”

“Ellie wept for the very intractability of death, its imperviousness to argument.”

“He’s my cat! He’s not God’s cat! Let God have his own cat! Let God have all the damn old cats He wants, and kill them all! Church is mine!”

“Oh, about beer I never lie,’ Crandall said. ‘A man who lies about beer makes enemies.”

“Sometimes God dillies and dallies, and sometimes he just points at you and tells you to hang up your jock.”

“That lesson suggests that in the end, we can only find peace in our human lives by accepting the will of the universe.”

“The person healed has an obligation to then ask why— to meditate on God's will, and the extraordinary lengths to which God has gone to realize His will.”

“Everyone— black as well as white— thinks it's going to be better over the next jump of land.”

“He was nothing but a conduit, after all, and there isn't a culvert in the world that remembers the water flowed through it once the rain has stopped.”

“Sometimes, the embers are better then the campfire. It's strange, but it's true.”

“Like some dogs: kick them once and they never trust you again, no matter how nice you are to them.”

“Reconozco el terror como la principal emoción, así que trato de aterrorizar al lector. Pero si me parece que no puedo aterrorizarle, voy a intentar horrorizarle, y si veo que no puedo horrorizarle, intentaré asquearle. Yo no soy orgulloso.”

“When you own a piano, it's harder to think about moving.”

“The snow that began at midafternoon had faded the sign’s virulent yellow to a kinder pastel shade as the light ran out of the January dusk.”

“They understood that. They all understood it. This is not the same as comprehension, but it was good enough. When you stop to think, the whole idea of comprehension has a faintly archaic taste, like the sound of forgotten tongues or a look into a Victorian camera obscura. We Americans are much higher on simple understanding. It makes it easier to read the billboards when you're heading into town on the expressway at plus-fifty. To comprehend, the mental jaws have to gape wide enough to make the tendons creak. Understanding, however, can be purchased on every paperback-book rack in America.”

“Fiction is a lie. And GOOD fiction is the truth inside the lie.”

“It had that comfortably sprung, lived-in look that library books with a lively circulation always get; bent page corners, a dab of mustard on page 331, a whiff of some reader's spilled after-dinner whiskey on page 468. Only library books speak with such wordless eloquence of the power good stories hold over us, how good stories abide, unchanged and mutely wise, while we poor humans grow older and slower.”

“Ben smiled back, 'Mark Twain said a novel was a confession to everything by a man who had never done anything.”

“It was a moment he remembered for years after, as though a special small slice had been cut from the cake of time. If nothing fires between two people, such an instant simply falls back into the general wrack of memory.”

“Writing controlled fiction is called "plotting." Buckling your seatbelt and letting the story take over, however...that is called "storytelling." Storytelling is as natural as breathing; plotting is the literary version of artificial respiration.”

“Without his even being aware that it was happening, Paul's face rearranged itself into the expression of sincere concentration he always wore while listening to editors. He thought of this as his Can I Help You, Lady? expression. That was because most editors were like women who drive into service stations and tell the mechanic to fix whatever it is that's making that knocking sound under the hood or going wonk-wonk inside the dashboard, and please have it done an hour ago. A look of sincere concentration was good because it flattered them, and when editors were flattered, they would sometimes give in on some of their mad ideas.”

“The adult was Eric "Rusty" Everett, thirty-seven, a physician's assistant working with Dr. Ron Haskell, whom Rusty often thought of as The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Because, Rusty would have explained, he so often remains behind the curtain while I do the work.”

“A banty-rooster sort of guy, the kind that likes to pick fights, especially when the odds are all their way.”

“It would not do to tell other people, not just because they wouldn't believe but because they wouldn't care.”

“That— we seemed to have decided without saying a word— might go a long way toward spoiling something that was special, and beautiful, by virtue of its strangeness and delicacy.”

“All I wanted was eighteen holes of golf on Saturday afternoon, and instead I turned into Snow White with hair on my chest.”

“God wiped snot out of his nose and that was you.”

“Viața nu e suport pentru artă. Invers stau lucrurile.”

“He ran back and I watched him go, legs pumping, soles of his zori showing. I love him.It's his face and sometimes the way his eyes turn up to mine that make me feel as ifthings are really okay. It's a lie, of course-things are not okay and never have been-butmy kid makes me believe the lie.”