Stephen King Quotes - Page 9

You want to remember that while you're judging the book, the book is also judging you.

Without story books is like a person with no soul.

Jake went in, aware that he had, for the first time in three weeks, opened a door without hoping madly to find another world on the other side. A bell jingled overhead. The mild, spicy smell of old books hit him, and the smell was somehow like coming home.

A book is like a pump. It gives nothing unless first you give to it. You prime a pump with your own water, you work the handle with your own strength. You do this because you expect to get back more than you give.

Good books are for consideration after, too.

Books are Uniquely Portable Magic

Me cae bien la gente que lee libros, y no sólo porque yo solía escribirlos. Los lectores de libros están tan dispuestos como cualquiera a iniciar una conversación con el tema del tiempo, pero son capaces de pasar de ahí.

If you drop a book into the toilet, you can fish it out, dry it off and read that book. But if you drop your Kindle in the toilet, you’re pretty well done.

Anyway, as the old barrelhouse song says, My God, how the money rolled in. Norton must have subscribed to the old Puritan notion that the best way to figure out which folks God favours is by checking their bank acounts.

WHERE THE HELL IS DERRY, MAINE?

Time's the thief of memory

Time heals all wounds.

Time and tide wait for no man.

In the end, the wind takes everything, doesn't it? And why not? Why other? If the sweetness of our lives did not depart, there would be no sweetness at all.

Las personas con un alto nivel de tolerancia al aburrimiento tienen tiempo de sobra para pensar.

she might have been pretty when she started out, but the world had moved on since then.

He had never been a social man. He had shunned causes with contempt and disgust. They were for pig-simple suckers and people with too much time and money on their hands

But time changed. That was something only drunks and junkies understood. When you
couldn’t sleep, when you were afraid to look around because of what you might see, time elongated and grew sharp teeth.

The way those old memories kept bubbling to the surface in the present tense was disturbing. It was as if the past had never died; as if on some level of time's great tower, everything was still happening.

I think houses live their own lives along a time-stream that's different from the ones upon which their owners float, one that's slower. In a house, especially an old one, the past is closer.