Stephen King
Stephen King
Stephen Edwin Kingis an American author of contemporary horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, science fiction, and fantasy. His books have sold more than 350 million copies, many of which have been adapted into feature films, miniseries, television shows, and comic books. King has published 54 novels, including seven under the pen name Richard Bachman, and six non-fiction books. He has written nearly 200 short stories, most of which have been collected in book collections. Many of his stories are set in...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth21 September 1947
CityPortland, ME
Pride was the belt you used to hold your pants up when you had no pants.
Do I know what people say? Sure. I shrug it off. what else can you do? Stop people from talking? You might as well try to stop the wind from blowing.
The crazy people of the world...shouldn't get to win. If God won't make it better after they do have their shitty little victories, then ordinary people have to. They have to try, at least.
I know your mother lives in your head - almost everyone's mother does, I guess - but you can't let her have her way on this one
I know life is hard, I think everyone knows that in their hearts, but why dos it have to be cruel, as well? Why does it have to bite?
If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples. I'll love your face no matter what it looks like. Because it's yours.
Do you happen to have another Condom? I think I've discovered the cure for headaches.
Whenever anything happens in America, they have to gold-plate it, like baby shoes. That way you can forget it.
She did not know if her gift came from the lord of light or of darkness, and now, finally finding that she didn't care which, she wad overcome with almost indescribable relief, as if a huge weight, long carried, had slipped from her shoulders.
The low bird is not picked tenderly out of the dust by its fellows; rather, it is dispatched quickly and without mercy.
Sarcastic people tend to be marshmallows underneath the armor
Like the man said, a little hope never hurt anybody
Dead was the gift that kept on giving. Dead, like diamonds, was forever.
Explanations are such cheap poetry.