Stephen King Quotes (302 Quotes)


    A man who loves money is a bastard, someone to be hated. A man who can't take care of it is a fool. You don't hate him, but you got to pity him.



    The sun was a molten coin burning a circle in the low-hanging overcast, surrounded by a fairy-ring of moisture.

    There were fourteen steps exactly fourteen. But the top one was smaller, out of proportion, as if it had been added to avoid the evil number.


    On the day of my judgment, when I stand before God, and He asks me why did I kill one of his true miracles, what am I gonna say? That it was my job? My job?


    He could feel the pores of his body open like a million mouths and slurp the water in like a sponge.


    People don't get better, they just get smarter. When you get smarter you don't stop pulling the wings of flies, you just think of better reasons for doing 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.



    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.


    Men who find themselves late are never sure. They are all the things the civics books tell us the good citizen should be: partisans but never zealots, respectors of the facts which attend each situation but never benders of those facts, uncomfortable in positions of leadership but rarely unable to turn down a responsibility once it has been offered . . . or thrust upon them. They make the best leaders in a democracy because they are unlikely to fall in love with power.

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

    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.

    Corey Bryant sank into a great forgetful river, and that river was time, and its waters were red.

    You needn't die happy when your time comes, but you must die satisfied, for you have lived your life from the beginning to the end and ka is always served.



    There are all sorts of dream interpretations, Freud's being the most notorious, but I have always believed they served a simple eliminatory function, and not much more - that dreams are the psyche's way of taking a good dump every now and then.

    It was how wars really ended, Dieffenbaker supposed -- not at truce tables but in cancer wards and office cafeterias and traffic jams. Wars died one tiny piece at a time, each piece something that fell like a memory, each lost like an echo that fades in winding hills. In the end even war ran up the white flag. Or so he hoped. He hoped that in the end even war surrendered.

    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.





    At Hartford or New Haven or one of those other places where no one in their right fucking mind would want to live.


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