Background Image

...

I Think It's Relatively Easy For People To Accept Something Like Telepathy Or Precognition Or Teleplasm Because Their Willingness To Believe Doesn't Cost Them Anything. It Doesn't Keep Them Awake Nights. But The Idea That The Evil That Men Do Lives After Them Is Unsettling.

-Stephen King

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

I Think It's Relatively

Stephen King

...

I Think It's Relatively Easy For People To Accept Something Like Telepathy Or Precognition Or Teleplasm Because Their Willingness To Believe Doesn't Cost Them Anything. It Doesn't Keep Them Awake Nights. But The Idea That The Evil That Men Do Lives After Them Is Unsettling.

Views: 5

Topic

More From Stephen King

Above All Else, Be Consistent.

By And Large... The Good's An Illusion, Little Fables Folks Tell Themselves So They Can Get Through Their Days Without Screaming Too Much.

Schizoid Behavior Is A Pretty Common Thing In Children. It's Accepted, Because All We Adults Have This Unspoken Agreement That Children Are Lunatics.

Sometimes Loving Eyes Don't See What They Don't Want To See.

I Have The World's Best Job. I Get Paid To Hang Out In My Imagination All Day.

Memory Is The Basis Of Every Journey.

Good Books Don't Give Up All Their Secrets At Once.

I Start Work Around 8 A.m. And Usually Finish Around Noon. If There's More To Do, I Do It In The Late Afternoon, Although That Isn't Prime Time For Me.

The Horror Genre Is An Extremely Delicate Thing. You Can Talk To Filmmakers And Even Psychologists Who've Studied The Genre, And Even They Don't Understand What Works Or What Doesn't Work. More Importantly, They Don't Understand Why It Works When It Works.

Delicate Things

I Don't Want To Sound Like An Ad, A Public Service Ad On Tv, But The Fact Is If You Can Read, You Can Walk Into A Job Later On. If You Don't, Then You've Got, The Army, Iraq, I Don't Know, Something Like That. It's, It's Not As Bright. So, That's My Little Commercial For That.

And All That Weirdness Isn't Just Going On Outside. It's In You Too, Right Now, Growing In The Dark Like Magic Mushrooms. Call It The Thing In The Cellar. Call It The Blow Lunch Factor. Call It The Loony Tunes File. I Think Of It As My Private Dinosaur, Huge, Slimy, And Mindless, Stumbling Around In The Stinking Swamp Of My Subconscious, Never Finding A Tar Pit Big Enough To Hold It.

Bird And Bear And Hare And Fish, Give My Love Her Fondest Wish.

A Hurt Body And Mind Aren't Just Like A Dictatorship; They Are A Dictatorship. There Is No Tyrant As Merciless As Pain, No Despot So Cruel As Confusion.

I Stood For Almost An Hour In A Line Of Shuffling, Bitter - Eyed Late Mailers (christmas Is Such A Carefree, Low - Pressure Time - That's One Of The Things I Love About It).

Beating Heroin Is Child's Play Compared To Beating Your Childhood.

I Write About Things That Scare Me. I've Never Written A Snake Story In My Life. I Myself Have Never Written A Story About Snakes Because They Don't Scare Me. I Write About Rats Because They Scare The Hell Out Of Me.

And As A Writer, One Of The Things That I've Always Been Interested In Doing Is Actually Invading Your Comfort Space. Because That's What We're Supposed To Do. Get Under Your Skin, And Make You React.

The Only Mortal Sin Is Giving Up.

Any Parting Could Be Forever, And We Don't Know.

Love Didn't Grow Very Well In A Place Where There Was Only Fear

Small Towns Harbor Small Imaginations.

I Can Remember As A College Student Writing Stories And Novels, Some Of Which Ended Up Getting Published And Some That Didn't. It Was Like My Head Was Going To Burst - There Were So Many Things I Wanted To Write All At Once. I Had So Many Ideas, Jammed Up. It Was Like They Just Needed Permission To Come Out.

I'm Still In Love With What I Do, With The Idea Of Making Things Up, So Hours When I Write Always Feel Like Very Blessed Hours To Me.

You Know," Glen Bateman Said, Looking Out Toward Grand Junction In The Early Light Of Morning, "i've Heard The Saying 'that Sucks' For Years Without Really Being Sure Of What It Meant. Now I Think I Know.

It Wasn't Just Love That Held People Together. There Was Secrets, And The Price You Paid To Keep Them.

I Would Say Plotting Is The Most Difficult Thing For Me. Characterization Is Only Hard Because Sometimes I Feel I Get So Interested In It That I Want To Talk Too Much About The Characters And That Slows The Story Down. So I Say, "hey, People Want To Find Out What's Going To Happen Next, They Don't Want To Listen To You Spout Off About This Or That Person." But I Think Even The Bad Guy Deserves To Tell His Side Of The Story.

The Rope By Which The Great Blocks Of Taxes Are Attached To Any Citizenry Is Simple Loyalty.

As A Species We're Fundamentally Insane. Put More Than Two Of Us In A Room, We Pick Sides And Start Dreaming Up Reasons To Kill One Another. Why Do You Think We Invented Politics And Religion?

Once I Start Work On A Project, I Don’t Stop And I Don’t Slow Down Unless I Absolutely Have To. If I Don’t Write Every Day, The Characters Begin To Stale Off In My Mind – They Begin To Seem Like Characters Instead Of Real People. The Tale’s Narrative Cutting Edge Starts To Rust And I Begin To Lose My Hold On The Story’s Plot And Pace. Worst Of All, The Excitement Of Spinning Something New Begins To Fade. The Work Starts To Feel Like Work, And For Most Writers That Is The Smooch Of Death.

The Past Is Obdurate. It Doesn't Want To Change.

Pride, That Invisible Bone That Keeps The Neck Stiff.

I've Spread My Legs In The Backseat In A Creative Sense Quite A Few Times.

Talent Is Never Static. It's Always Growing Or Dying.

And The Rain Went Rollin Down The Windowpanes, And The Shadows Wiggled N' Squiggled On Her Check And Forehead Like Black Veins.

I'm Not Making An Enemy; I'm Keepin' One.

Want To Know The Best Thing About Teaching? Seeing That Moment When A Kid Discovers His Or Her Gift. There's No Feeling On Earth Like It.

Talent Is A Dull Knife That Will Cut Nothing Unless It Is Wielded With Great Force.

Writing Is Like Being In A Dream State Or Under Self-directed Hypnosis. It Induces A State Of Recall That - While Not Perfect - Is Pretty Spooky.

This Is Probably The Single Great Subject Of Horror Fiction: Our Need To Cope With A Mystery That Can Be Understood Only With The Aid Of A Helpful Imagination.

Things Come In Three Major Degrees In The Human Experience, I Think. There's Good, Bad, And Terrible. And As You Go Down Into Progressive Darkness Towards Terrible, It Gets Harder And Harder To Make Subdivisions.

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?

A Book Is Like A Pump. It Gives Nothing Unless First You Give To It. You Prime A Pump With Your Own Water, You Work The Handle With Your Own Strength. You Do This Because You Expect To Get Back More Than You Give.

For A Moment He Felt A Wild Hope: Perhaps This Really Was A Nightmare. Perhaps He Would Awake In His Own Bed, Bathed In Sweat, Shaking, Maybe Even Crying . . . But Alive. Safe. Then He Pushed The Thought Away. Its Charm Was Deadly, Its Comfort Fatal.

I Have To Remind Myself That Some Birds Aren’t Meant To Be Caged. Their Feathers Are Just Too Bright.

One Night When My Longing For Her Was Like A Fire Burning Out Of Control In My Heart And My Head, I Wrote Her A Letter That Just Seemed To Go On And On. I Poured Out My Whole Heart In It, Never Looking Back To See What I'd Said Because I Was Afraid Cowardice Would Make Me Stop. I Didn't Stop, And When A Voice In My Head Clamored That It Would Be Madness To Mail Such A Letter, That I Would Be Giving Her My Naked Heart To Hold In Her Hand, I Ignored It With A Child's Breathless Disregard Of The Consequences.

You Want To Remember That While You're Judging The Book, The Book Is Also Judging You.

I Write To Find Out What I Think.

The Lord Is My Shepherd. I Shall Not Want For Nothing. He Makes Me Lie Down In The Green Pastures. He Greases Up My Head With Oil. He Gives Me Kung-fu In The Face Of My Enemies. Amen

He Who Speaks Without An Attentive Ear Is Mute.

Our Time Here Is Brief, Our Risk Enormous. Don't Waste The One Or Increase The Other, If You Please.

When Creative People Do Their Best Work, They're Hardly Ever In Charge, They're Just Sort Of Rolling Along With Their Eyes Shut Yelling Wheee.

May Be She’ll Learn Something About What Death Really Is, Which Is Where The Pain Stops And The Good Memories Begin. Not The End Of Life But The End Of Pain.

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.

Do It For Joy And You Can Do It Forever

They Were Nice Enough People And All, But There Wasn't Much Love In Them. Because They Were Too Busy Being Afraid. Love Didn't Grow Very Well In A Place Where There Was Only Fear, Just As Plants Didn't Grow Very Well In A Place Where It Was Always Dark.

I Think That Marijuana Should Not Only Be Legal, I Think It Should Be A Cottage Industry. It Would Be Wonderful For The State Of Maine. There's Some Pretty Good Homegrown Dope. I'm Sure It Would Be Even Better If You Could Grow It With Fertilizers And Have Greenhouses.

Whenever I Publish A Book, I Feel Like A Trapper Caught By The Iroquois. They're All Lined Up With Tomahawks, And The Idea Is To Run Through With Your Head Down, And Everybody Gets To Take A Swing. They Hit You In The Head, The Back, The Ass, And The Balls.

As Far As Where I Go When I Die, The Concept That I Am Simple Going To Flick Out, Like A Light Bulb, To Me Is Not Only Spiritually Impossible To Believe, But Logically It Is Laughable - The Idea That We Simply Die And Nothing Happens.

He Sat Upon His Throne, Which Is Made Of Skulls.

Wow. This Makes Grand Central Look Like A Bus Stop In Buttfuck Nebraska.

...it Was More Like Bleeding Than Crying.

Dolls With No Little Girls Around To Mind Them Were Sort Of Creepy Under Any Conditions.

God Is Cruel. Sometimes He Makes You Live.

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.

It Means That No Blue Ribbon Is Forever. Someday - If The World Doesn't Explode Itself In The Meantime - Someone Will Run A Two-minute Mile In The Olympics. It May Take A Hundred Years Or A Thousand, But It Will Happen. Because There Is No Ultimate Blue Ribbon. There Is Zero, And There Is Eternity, And There Is Mortality, But There Is No Ultimate.

We All Float Down Here!

Yet Suppose Further. Suppose That All Worlds, All Universes, Met At A Single Nexus, A Single Pylon, A Tower. And Within It, A Stairway, Perhaps Rising To The Godhead Itself. Would You Dare Climb To The Top, Gunslinger? Could It Be That Somewhere Above All Of Endless Reality, There Exists A Room?...' You Dare Not.' And In The Gunslinger's Mind, Those Words Echoed: You Dare Not.

The Advantage Of Horror Books Is To Take The Reader And Cut Him Out Of The Pack And Work On Him One On One. It Has Its Advantages Because The People That Are There In The Movie Theater Really Are A Mob. If You Get One Guy Alone You Can Do A More Efficient Job Of Scaring Him.

My Heart's With You, Bill, No Matter How It Turns Out. My Heart Is With All Of Them, And I Think That, Even If We Forget Each Other, We'll Remember In Our Dreams.

Showrunning Is A Thing Where You Have To Work With Tons Of Different People. You Have To Schmooze People, You Have To Talk To Network People. I Don't Want To Do Any Of That.

Want A Coke?” Abra Asked. “sugar Solves Lots Of Problems, That’s What I Think.

It's A Hard Life If You Don't Weaken.

He Smiles A Lot. But I Think There Might Be Worms Inside Him Making Him Smile.

When You Write You Tell Yourself A Story. When You Rewrite You Take Out Everything That Is Not The Story.

They Walked Through The Rainy Dark Like Gaunt Ghosts, And Garraty Didn't Like To Look At Them. They Were The Walking Dead.

Say Your Name Over Two Hundred Times And Discover You Are No One.

The Things A Man Sees When He Ain't Got A Gun.--watson The Caretaker

I Like To Get Ten Pages A Day, Which Amounts To 2,000 Words. That’s 180,000 Words Over A Three-month Span, A Goodish Length For A Book — Something In Which The Reader Can Get Happily Lost, If The Tale Is Done Well And Stays Fresh.

The Important Question Has Nothing To Do With Whether The Talk In Your Story Is Sacred Or Profane; The Only Question Is How It Rings On The Page And In Your Ear. If You Expect It To Ring True, Then You Must Talk Yourself. Even More Important, You Must Shut Up And Listen To Others Talk.

It's A Poorboy Sanditch,' Roland Said. 'with Lots Of Mayo, Whatever That Is. I'd Want A Sauce That Didn't Look Quite So Much Like Come, Myself, But May It Do Ya Fine.

Rewrite Formula: 2nd Draft = 1st Draft - 10%.

The Last Good Time Always Comes, And When You See The Darkness Creeping Toward You, You Hold On To What Was Bright And Good. You Hold On For Dear Life.

Everybody Wants To Psychoanalyze Horror. They Don't Want To Psychoanalyze A Book Like Gay Talese's "sex With Your Neighbor" [sic] Or Something Like That. It's Pretty Much Accepted That Americans Should Be Interested In Who They're Diddling And How They're Doing It.

I’m So Afraid That All I Can Reach Will Lead Me To All I Dare Not See.

...book-buyers Aren't Attracted, By And Large, By The Literary Merits Of A Novel: Book-buyers Want A Good Story...something That Will First Fascinate Them, Then Pull Them In And Keep Them Turning The Pages.

I Think Reality Is Thin, You Know, Thin As Lake Ice After A Thaw, And We Fill Our Lives With Noise And Light And Motion To Hide That Thinness From Ourselves.

Most Books About Writing Are Filled With Bullshit. Fiction Writers, Present Company Included, Don’t Understand Very Much About What They Do—not Why It Works When It’s Good, Not Why It Doesn’t When It’s Bad.

A Coward Judges All He Sees By What He Is.

You're Dead, George. You Just Don't Have The Sense To Lie Down.

Making People Believe The Unbelievable Is No Trick; It's Work... Belief And Reader Absorption Come In The Details: An Overturned Tricycle In The Gutter Of An Abandoned Neighborhood Can Stand For Everything.

The Woman Had Looked Into The Abyss And Then Walked Out Across It.

Come On Back And We’ll See If You Remember The Simplest Thing Of All – How It Is To Be Children, Secure In Belief And Thus Afraid Of The Dark.

I Believe In Evil, But All My Life I've Gone Back And Forth About Whether Or Not There's An Outside Evil, Whether Or Not There's A Force In The World That Really Wants To Destroy Us, From The Inside Out, Individually And Collectively.

Reading Is The Creative Center Of A Writer’s Life. I Take A Book With Me Everywhere I Go, And Find There Are All Sorts Of Opportunities To Dip In. The Trick Is To Teach Yourself To Read In Small Sips As Well As In Long Swallows. Waiting Rooms Were Made For Books— Of Course! But So Are Theater Lobbies Before The Show, Long And Boring Checkout Lines, And Everyone’s Favorite, The John. You Can Even Read While You’re Driving, Thanks To The Audiobook Revolution. Of The Books I Read Each Year, Anywhere From Six To A Dozen Are On Tape.

There May Be Fairies, There May Be Elves, But God Helps Those Who Help Themselves.

The Definition Of An Asshole Is Someone Who Doesn't Believe What He Is Seeing.

But I Believe In Love, You Know; Love Is A Uniquely Portable Magic. I Don’t Think It’s In The Stars, But I Do Believe That Blood Calls To Blood And Mind Calls To Mind And Heart To Heart.

Deep Inside Her (ih Her Harrowed Soul) She Felt A Glowing Ember Of Fury At The Man Responsible For This. Tha Man Who Had Put Her In This Position. She Looked At The Pistol Lying Beside The Basin, And Knew That If He Were Here, She Would Use It On Him Without A Moment's Hesitation. Knowing That Made Her Feel Confused About Herself. It Also Made Her Feel A Little Stronger.

A Product Can Be Quickly Outdated, But A Successful Brand Is Timeless.

You Should Never Trust A Person Who Prays In Public.

Remember That 'plumber In Space' Is Not Such A Bad Setup For A Story.

You Know What Talent Is? The Curse Of Expectation. As A Kid You Have To Deal With That, Beat It Somehow. If You Can Write, You Think God Put You On Earth To Blow Shakespeare Away. Or If You Can Paint, Maybe You Think--i Did--that God Put You On Earth To Blow Your Father Away.

I Was Being Paid To Do What I Loved, And There's No Gig On Earth Better Than That; It's Like A License To Steal.

God Pisses Down The Back Of Your Neck Every Day But Only Drowns You Once.

Dark Tower Series

I've Given Up Thinking - It Keeps Getting Me Into Trouble.

As A Species We're Fundamentally Insane.

Homesickness Is Not Always A Vague, Nostalgic, Almost Beautiful Emotion, Although That Is Somehow The Way We Always Seem To Picture It In Our Mind. It Can Be A Terribly Keen Blade, Not Just A Sickness In Metaphor But In Fact As Well. It Can Change The Way One Looks At The World; The Faces One Sees In The Street Look Not Just Indifferent But Ugly... Perhaps Even Malignant. Homesickness Is A Real Sickness--the Ache Of The Uprooted Plant.

Tell Him He's Wrong. Tell Him That Even If He's Right About Waiting, He's Right For The Wrong Reasons, And That Makes Him All The Way Wrong.

Paul Edgecomb: What Do You Want Me To Do John? I'll Do It. You Want Me To Let You Walk Out Of Here And See How Far You Get? John Coffey: Now Why Would You Want To Do A Foolish Thing Like That? Paul Edgecomb: When I Die And I Stand Before God Awaiting Judgment And He Asks Me Why I Let One Of His Miracles Die, What Am I Gonna Say, That It Was My Job?

True Love Always Happens In A Flash.

Fools Are The Only Folk On The Earth Who Can Absolutely Count On Getting What They Deserve.

My Childhood Was Pretty Ordinary, Except From A Very Early Age, I Wanted To Be Scared. I Just Did. I Was Scared Afterwards. I Wanted A Light On, Because I Was Afraid That There Was Something In The Closet. My Imagination Was Very Active, Even At A Young Age.

Gordie: Do You Think I'm Weird? Chris: Definitely. Gordie: No Man, Seriously. Am I Weird? Chris: Yeah, But So What? Everybody's Weird

Stories Are Relics, Part Of An Undiscovered Pre-existing World.

Writing Is Like Sex. The More You Think About It, The Harder It Is To Do. It's Better Not To Think About It So Much And Just Let It Happen.

Pray For Rain While Digging A Well.

Home Is Where You Dance With Others, And Dancing Is Life.

A Change Is As Good As A Rest.

The Shining. It Was A Good Name, A Comforting Name, Because She Had Always Thought Of It As A Dark Thing.

If You Don't Have Time To Read, You Don't Have The Time (or The Tools) To Write. Simple As That.

Humans Were Built To Look Back; That's Why We Have That Swivel Joint In Our Necks

About Halfway Through I Broke Down Crying, Which I Hadn't Expected. I Was A Little Ashamed, But Only A Little;it Was Her, You See, And She Never Taxed Me With The Times That I Slipped From The Way I Thought A Man Should Be...the Way I Thought I Should Be, At Any Rate. A Man With A Good Wife Is The Luckiest Of God's Creatures, And One Without Must Be Among The Most Miserable, I Think, The Only True Blessing Of Their Lives That They Don't Know How Poorly Off They Are.

Now Panic Beats And Flutters Inside My Skull Like A Flock Of Starlings Locked In An Attic.

When A Good Writer Is Having Fun, The Audience Is Almost Always Having Fun Too.

It's Alright To Feel Fear, But Sometimes A Very Bad Idea To Show It.

The First Draft Of A Book—even A Long One—should Take No More Than Three Months, The Length Of A Season.

Alone. Yes, That's The Key Word, The Most Awful Word In The English Tongue. Murder Doesn't Hold A Candle To It And Hell Is Only A Poor Synonym.

A Lot Of Fairy Tales Are Thinly Disguised Hostility Raps Against Parents. Kids Know That They Can't Make It On Their Own, That If They Were Left Alone, They Would Die.

I Believe These Stories Exist Because We Sometimes Need To Create Unreal Monsters And Bogies To Stand In For All The Things We Fear In Our Real Lives: The Parent Who Punches Instead Of Kissing, The Auto Accident That Takes A Loved One, The Cancer We One Day Discover Living In Our Own Bodies. If Such Terrible Occurrences Were Acts Of Darkness, They Might Actually Be Easier To Cope With. But Instead Of Being Dark, They Have Their Own Terrible Brilliance. . . And None Shine So Bright As The Acts Of Cruelty We Sometimes Perpetrate In Our Own Families.

He Killed Them With Their Love.

The Kids Accepted My Drinking As A Part Of Life. Not A Particularly Pernicious Part. I Didn't Beat Up On Them. Basically I Don't Think I Was So Different From A Lot Of Dads Who Have Three Or Four Martinis When They Get In From Work, Wine With Dinner And So On.

Kindle, Isn’t It?” The Waitress Asked. “i Got One For Christmas, And I Love It. I’m Reading My Way Through All Of Jodi Picoult’s Books.” “oh, Probably Not All Of Them,” Wesley Said. “huh? Why Not?” “she’s Probably Got Another One Done Already. That’s All I Meant.” “and James Patterson’s Probably Written One Since He Got Up This Morning!” She Said, And Went Off Chortling.

A Dimwit Thinks Nothing Is Funny Unless It's Mean.

The Dream Might Have Been More Than A Dream. It Was As If A Door In The Wall Of Reality Had Come Ajar... And Now All Sorts Of Unwelcome Things Were Flying Through.

Mrs. Cole Was A Perfect Democrat. She Hated All Kids Equally.

And If There Are No Cars Or Planes, And If No One’s Uncle John Is Out In The Wood Lot West Of Town Banging Away At A Quail Or Pheasant; If The Only Sound Is The Slow Beat Of Your Own Heart, You Can Hear Another Sound, And That Is The Sound Of Life Winding Down To Its Cyclic Close, Waiting For The First Winter Snow To Perform Last Rites.

If It's Ok To Register Cars And License Drivers, Why Is It Not Ok To Impose Similar Legal Responsibilities On Gun Owners?

Take The Dead From The Dead, The Old Proverb Said; Only A Corpse May Speak True Prophecy.

Successful Rebellions Always Begin In Secret.

For Every Mother Who Ever Cursed God For Her Child Dead In The Road, For Every Father Who Ever Cursed The Man Who Sent Him Away From The Factory With No Job, For Every Child Who Was Ever Born To Pain And Asked Why, This Is The Answer. Our Lives Are Like These Things I Build. Sometimes They Fall Down For A Reason, Sometimes They Fall Down For No Reason At All.

Time's The Thief Of Memory

Invitation To Dance- It’s A Dance. And Sometimes They Turn The Lights Off In This Ballroom. But We’ll Dance Anyway, You And I. Even In The Dark. Especially In The Dark. May I Have The Pleasure?

When Love Leaves The World, All Hearts Are Still. Tell Them Of My Love And Tell Them Of My Pain And Tell Them Of My Hope, Which Still Lives. For This Is All I Have And All I Am And All I Ask.

Lover," She Whispers, And Closes Her Eyes. It Falls Upon Her. Love Is Like Dying.

Adults Are The Real Monsters.

A Slice Of Pie Without Cheese Is Like A Kiss Without A Squeeze.

A Short Story Is A Different Thing All Together - A Short Story Is Like A Kiss In The Dark From A Stranger.

Some Tears Have To Be Cried No Matter What The Hour- Until They Are, They Simply Rave And Burn Inside.

I Was Sitting One Day And Thinking About Cannibalism, Because That's What Guys Like Me Do... And I Thought, Suppose A Guy Was Washed Up On A Rocky Island, How Much Of Himself Could He Eat?

I Have No Opinion. No, None At All. Opinion Is Politics, And Politics Is An Evil Which Has Caused Many A Fellow To Be Hung While He's Still Young And Pretty.

I Have Never Felt Like I Was Creating Anything. For Me, Writing Is Like Walking Through A Desert And All At Once, Poking Up Through The Hardpan, I See The Top Of A Chimney. I Know There's A House Under There, And I'm Pretty Sure That I Can Dig It Up If I Want. That's How I Feel. It's Like The Stories Are Already There. What They Pay Me For Is The Leap Of Faith That Says: 'if I Sit Down And Do This, Everything Will Come Out Okay.'

I Think It Is Beyond Doubt That H. P. Lovecraft Has Yet To Be Surpassed As The Twentieth Century's Greatest Practitioner Of The Classic Horror Tale.

God Doesn't Bribe, Child. He Just Makes A Sign And Lets People Take It As They Will.

I've Been Typed As A Horror Writer, And I've Always Said To People, "i Don't Care What You Call Me As Long As The Checks Don't Bounce And The Family Gets Fed."

The Idea That America Exists In A Culture Of Violence Is Bullshit. What America Exists In Is A Culture Of Kardashian.

Human Nature Baby, Grab It And Growl.

Do You Happen To Have Another Condom? I Think I've Discovered The Cure For Headaches.

But You Don't Do It. Because Guys Like Us, Red, We Know There's A Third Choice. An Alternative To Staying Simon-pure Or Bathing In The Filth And The Slime. It's The Alternative That Grown-ups All Over The World Pick. You Balance Off Your Walk Through The Hog-wallow Against What It Gains You. You Choose The Lesser Of Two Evils And Try To Keep Your Good Intentions In Front Of You. And I Guess You Judge How Well You're Doing By How Well You Sleep At Night... And What Your Dreams Are Like.

Give A Man Or Woman Back His Self-respect, And In Most Cases-not All, But Most-you Also Give Back That Person's Ability To Think With At Least Some Clarity.

I Like To Hang Out Clothes On Windy Days. Sometimes That's All I Feel Like. A Sheet On A Line.

In Many Cases When A Reader Puts A Story Aside Because It 'got Boring,' The Boredom Arose Because The Writer Grew Enchanted With His Powers Of Description And Lost Sight Of His Priority, Which Is To Keep The Ball Rolling.

If It's Ka It'll Come Like A Wind, And Your Plans Will Stand Before It No More Than A Barn Before A Cyclone

Flip-flop, Hippety-hop, Offa Your Rocker And Over The Top, Life's A Fiction And The World's A Lie, So Put On Some Creedence And Let's Get High.

The Low Bird Is Not Picked Tenderly Out Of The Dust By Its Fellows; Rather, It Is Dispatched Quickly And Without Mercy.

But Then Fall Comes, Kicking Summer Out On Its Treacherous Ass As It Always Does One Day Sometime After The Midpoint Of September, It Stays Awhile Like An Old Friend That You Have Missed. It Settles In The Way An Old Friend Will Settle Into Your Favorite Chair And Take Out His Pipe And Light It And Then Fill The Afternoon With Stories Of Places He Has Been And Things He Has Done Since Last He Saw You.

The Man In Black Fled Across The Desert, And The Gunslinger Followed.

Remember In Elementary School You Were Told That In Case Of Fire You Have To Line Up Quietly In A Single File From Smallest To Tallest? What Is The Logic In That? What, Do Tall People Burn Slower?

Overhead Was A Sky Blacker Than Jewlers' Velvet, And A Billion Stars Screamed Down.

Kill If You Will, But Command Me Nothing!

There Should Be No Telephone In Your Writing Room, Certainly No Tv Or Videogames For You To Fool Around With. If There’s A Window, Draw The Curtains Or Pull Down The Shades Unless It Looks Out At A Blank Wall.

That's Something That Is Almost Accidental At The Beginning Of A Career, But The More You Write, The More Trained You Are To Recognize The Little Signals.

Lawyers Are Fleas On The Hide Of Human Nature.

You Might Question A Winkle - A Feeling That Came To You Right Out Of The Blue - But You Didn’t Question Knowing.

Like Some Dogs: Kick Them Once And They Never Trust You Again, No Matter How Nice You Are To Them.

I'm Convinced That Fear Is At The Root, Of All Bad Writing

Doubters Will Doubt To The End.

There Are Really Very Few Economies Of Scale In Centralising Or Standardising Advertising.

The Only [working] Ritual Is Making Tea. I Use The Loose Leaves And Drink It By The Gallon.

I Can See Your Dirtypillows.

I Enjoy Going Back And Forth Between Plays And Novels. It`s Like Having A Wife And A Mistress. Books Are The Wife; Plays, The Mistress.

Art Is The Concrete Artifact Of Faith And Expectation, The Realization Of A World That Would Otherwise Be Little More Than A Veil Of Pointless Consciousness Stretched Over A Gulf Of Mystery.

He Needs To Be Corrected, If You Don't Mind Me Saying So. He Needs A Good Talking-to, And Perhaps A Bit More. My Own Girls, Sir, Didn't Care For The Overlook At First. One Of Them Actually Stole A Pack Of My Matches And Tried To Burn It Down. I Corrected Them. I Corrected Them Most Harshly. And When My Wife Tried To Stop Me From Doing My Duty, I Corrected Her.

The Bad Ideas Kind Of Just Drop Out Of The Mix. You Forget About Them. The Good Ones Stick Around.

Dreams Age Faster Than Dreamers.

It Always Comes Down To Just Two Choices. Get Busy Living, Or Get Busy Dying.

I Work To Loud Music - Hard-rock Stuff Like Ac/dc, Guns 'n Roses, And Metallica Have Always Been Particular Favorites - But For Me The Music Is Just Another Way Of Shutting The Door.

The Man In Black Smiled. "shall We Tell The Truth Then, You And I? No More Lies?" I Thought We Had Been." But The Man In Black Persisted As If Roland Hadn't Spoken. "shall There Be Truth Between Us, As Two Men? Not As Friends, But As Equals? There Is An Offer You Will Get Rarely, Roland. Only Equals Speak The Truth, That's My Thought On't. Friends And Lovers Lie Endlessly, Caught In The Web Of Regard. How Tiresome!

Remember, Hope Is A Good Thing, Maybe The Best Of Things, And No Good Thing Ever Dies.

It Was Life, Often Unsatisfying, Frequently Cruel, Usually Boring, Sometimes Beautiful, Once In A While Exhilarating.

Most Gothics Are Overplotted Novels Whose Success Or Failure Hinges On The Author's Ability To Make You Believe In The Characters And Partake Of The Mood.

Friends Come In And Out Of Our Lives, Like Busboys In A Restaurant.

So Where Do The Ideas-the Salable Ideas-come From? They Come From My Nightmares. Not The Night-time Variety, As A Rule, But The Ones That Hide Just Beyond The Doorway That Separates The Conscious From The Unconscious.

Mornings Belong To Whatever Is New; The Current Composition. Afternoons Are For Naps And Letters.

I Started After Him...and The Clown Looked Back. I Saw Its Eyes, And All At Once I Understood Who It Was." "who Was It, Don?" Harold Gardner Asked Softly. "it Was Derry," Don Hagarty Said. "it Was This Town.

I'd Like To Learn French Well Enough To Write In That Language.

The Only Leverage The Manufacturer Can Apply To The Retailer Is His Relationship With The Consumer. And The Main Element In Profit Growth Is Going To Have To Lie In Making His Brand More Valuable To The Retailer, Through Its Being More Valuable To The Consumer. And That Means His Brand Must Be Unique, It Must Have No Adequate Direct Substitutes - Because It Is In This, After All, That Value Lies.

He Lay Back, Put His Arm Over His Eyes, And Tried To Hold Onto The Anger, Because The Anger Made Him Feel Brave. A Brave Man Could Think. A Coward Couldn't.

The Mind Can Calculate, But The Spirit Yearns, And The Heart Knows What The Heart Knows

A Person Could See A Lot Without Ever Leaving His Own Living Room. Especially If He Had The Right Tools.

The Essential And Defining Characteristic Of Childhood Is Not The Effortless Merging Of Dream And Reality, But Only Alienation. There Are No Words For Childhood's Dark Turns And Exhalations. A Wise Child Recognizes It And Submits To The Necessary Consequences. A Child Who Counts The Cost Is A Child No Longer.

Trending Author

Langston Hughes

Ramana Maharshi

Category