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Stephen King’s “It” Quotes (28 Quotes)


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  • He reached out with one bird-claw hand. He closed it around my wrist and I could feel the hot cancer that was loose and raving through his body, eating anything and everything left that was still good to eat.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • We lie best when we lie to ourselves.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • What can be done when you're eleven can often never be done again.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • Her hands twisted restlessly together like a pair of pink and hairless animals at play.
    (Stephen King, "It")


  • You could start at a path leading nowhere more fantastic than from your own front steps to the sidewalk, and from there you could go… well, anywhere at all.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • I discovered news of old horrors in old books; read intelligence of old atrocities in old periodicals; always in the back of my mind, every day a bit louder, I heard the seashell drone of some growing, coalescing force; I seemed to smell the bitter ozone aroma of lightings-to-come.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • I'm going to put them in the slam, my friend, and if I hear they got their puckery little assholes cored down there in Thomaston, I'm gonna send them cards saying I hope whoever did it had AIDS.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • In the stutter-flashes of light, the clouds look like huge transparent brains filled with bad thoughts.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • 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.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • Bill could smell Its breath and it was a smell like exploded animals lying on the highway at midnight.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • Oh Christ, he groaned to himself, if this is the stuff adults have to think about I never want to grow up
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • But still, sometimes, in the heart of winter when the light outside seemed yellow- sleepy, like a cat curled up on a sofa...
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • Politics always change. Stories never do.
    (Stephen King, "It")

  • But there was only that silence, as in the five or ten minutes before a vicious thundersquall strikes, when the purple heads stack up in the sky overhead and the light turns a queer purple-yellow and the wind dies completely.
    (Stephen King, "It")


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