In a book, all would have gone according to plan... but life was so fucking untidy — what could you say for an existence where some of the most crucial conversations of your life took place when you needed to take a shit, or something? An existence where there weren't even any chapters?
Stephen KingHis so-fucking-vivid imagination rarely gave him the horrors, but when it did, God help him. God help him once it was warmed up. It was not only warmed up now, it was hot and running on full choke. That there was no sense at all in what he was thinking made not a whit of difference in the dark. In the dark, rationality seemed stupid and logic a dream. In the dark he thought with his skin.
Stephen KingTags: fear imagination dreams darkness thoughts
Any big hotels have got scandals," he said. "Just like every big hotel has got a ghost. Why? Hell, people come and go. Sometimes one of em will pop off in his room, heart attack or stroke or something like that. Hotels are superstitious places. No thirteenth floor or room thirteen, no mirrors on the back of the door you come in through, stuff like that. [...]
Stephen KingTags: history hotels ghosts overlook-hotel
I'm not sure anybody ever gets completely over their first love, and that still rankles. Part of me still wants to know what was wrong with me. What I was lacking.
Stephen KingIt was sweet and lovely, that smile, perhaps the more so because it wasn’t complicated by much in the way of thought.
Stephen KingTags: smile
We rarely get what we imagine in this world.
Stephen KingThis is a badly broken world, full of wars and cruelty and senseless tragedy. Every human being who inhabits it is served his or her portion of unhappiness and wake up nights.
Stephen KingIdőközben felnőtt, és rájött, hogy felnőttnek lenni nem egészen olyan, mint amilyennek gyerekként képzelte.
Stephen KingA bűntudat olyan, mint egy seb: nem hagyja nyugodni a gazdáját, aki állandó kényszert érez, hogy nézegesse és vakarássza, ezért aztán sosem gyógyul be.
Stephen KingEgy szempillantás alatt eltelt jó néhány év – az egyik nagyszerű dolog a mesékben az, hogy az idő nagyon gyorsan múlik, amikor nem történik semmi említésre méltó. A való élet nem ilyen, és ez talán jól is van így. Az idő csak a mesékben telik gyorsabban, és hát mi a történelem, ha nem egy nagy mese, ahol a múló éveket évszázadok helyettesítik?
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