Her hands twisted restlessly together like a pair of pink and hairless animals at play.
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.
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.
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.
In the stutter-flashes of light, the clouds look like huge transparent brains filled with bad thoughts.
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.
Bill could smell Its breath and it was a smell like exploded animals lying on the highway at midnight.
Oh Christ, he groaned to himself, if this is the stuff adults have to think about I never want to grow up
But still, sometimes, in the heart of winter when the light outside seemed yellow- sleepy, like a cat curled up on a sofa...
Politics always change. Stories never do.
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.
Rivers of wrinkles flowing down from the corners of this eyes and mouth.
Calling it a simple schoolgirl crush was like saying a Rolls-Royce was a vehicle with four wheels, something like a hay-wagon. She did not giggle wildly and blush when she saw him, nor did she chalk his name on trees or write it on the walls of the Kissing Bridge. She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache. She would have died for him..
Seven, Richie thought. That's the magic number. There has to be seven of us. That's the way it's supposed to be.
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.
So exquisitely slopped that he didn't know if he was on land or at sea.
Disquiet and desire. What you want and what you're scared to try for. Where you've been and where you want to go. Something in a rock-and-roll song about wanting the girl, the car, the place to stand and be. Oh please God can you dig it.
Swear to me swear to me that if it isn't dead you'll all come back.
Eddie discovered one of his childhood's great truths. Grownups are the real monsters, he thought.
The first real terror struck him then, and there was nothing supernatural about it. It was only a realization of how easy it was to trash your life. That was what was so scary. You just dragged the fan up to everything you had spent the years raking together and turned the motherfucker on.
Everything's a lot tougher when it's for real. That's when you choke. When it's for real.
The sun was a molten coin burning a circle in the low-hanging overcast, surrounded by a fairy-ring of moisture.
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.
The terror, which would not end for another 28 years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.
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.
We lie best when we lie to ourselves.
He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts
What can be done when you're eleven can often never be done again.
More Stephen King Quotations (Based on Topics)
Time - Mind - God - Man - Life - People - Books - World - Light - Death & Dying - Place - Dreams - Friendship - Thought & Thinking - Hope - Love - Faces - Idea - Fire - View All Stephen King Quotations
More Stephen King Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Different Seasons
- Hearts in Atlantis
- Pet Sematary
- Salem's Lot
- The Dark Tower
- The Green Mile
- The Gunslinger
- The Shawshank Redemption
- The Shining
- The Stand
- The Talisman
- Wizard and Glass
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