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
People who try hard to do the right thing always seem mad.
Why' is a crooked letter and can't be made straight.
he sat upon his throne, which is made of skulls...
Stories are artifacts, not really made things which we create and can take credit for, but pre-existing objects which we dig up.
What you don’t know, you can’t tell. Or made to tell.
What I tell kids is don't get mad (about censorship) get even. Rud, don't walk, to the first library you can find, and read what they're trying to keep out of your eyes. Read what they're trying to keep out of your brains. Because that's exactly what you need to know.
Just the act of cooking made her feel better, because cooking was life.
Poe was the first writer to write about main characters who were bad guys or who were mad guys, and those are some of my favorite stories,
Madness is a kind of mental suicide.
Even the company of the mad was better than the company of the dead.
I'm curious to see what sort of response there is and whether or not this is the future,
I'm delighted to know that my future with Scribner, Pocket Books and Simon & Schuster Audio is secure.
I want some sort of guarantee that Mr. Harmon is going to do his time in Montana.
...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.