Time apparently did nothing but blunt grief’s sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced.
Stephen KingNow the two of them rode silently toward town, both lost in their own thoughts. Their way took them past the Delgado house. Roland looked up and saw Susan sitting in her window, a bright vision in the gray light of that fall morning. His heart leaped up and although he didn't know it then, it was how he would remember her most clearly forever after- lovely Susan, the girl in the window. So do we pass the ghosts that haunt us later in our lives; they sit undramatically by the roadside like poor beggars, and we see them only from the corners of our eyes, if we see them at all. The idea that they have been waiting there for us rarely if ever crosses our minds. Yet they do wait, and when we have passed, they gather up their bundles of memory and fall in behind, treading in our footsteps and catching up, little by little.
Stephen KingAn idea is like a cold germ: sooner or later someone always catches it.
Stephen KingThere is a muse, but he’s not going to come fluttering down into your writing room and scatter creative fairy-dust all over your typewriter or computer. He lives in the ground. He’s a basement kind of guy. You have to descend to his level, and once you get down there you have to furnish an apartment for him to live in. You have to do all the grunt labor, in other words, while the muse sits and smokes cigars and admires his bowling trophies and pretends to ignore you. Do you think it’s fair? I think it’s fair. He may not be much to look at, that muse-guy, and he may not be much of a conversationalist, but he’s got inspiration. It’s right that you should do all the work and burn all the mid-night oil, because the guy with the cigar and the little wings has got a bag of magic. There’s stuff in there that can change your life. Believe me, I know.
Stephen KingLater, with strange galaxies turning in slow gavotte overhead, neither thought the act of love had ever been so sweet, so full
Stephen KingStichwörter: romantic
Things were going very fast now. Too fast to suit him. Fantasy and reality had merged.
Stephen KingCorey Bryant sank into a great forgetful river, and that river was time, and its waters were red.
Stephen KingSorry is the KoolAid of human emotions.
Stephen KingShe was frightened because she was realizing – too late, too late – that what's done can't be undone, and what's remembered must somehow be lived with ever after. Even of the memories are insane.
Stephen KingNinety-eight percent of what goes on in people's heads is none of their smucking business.
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