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
Some part of me knew from the first that what I wanted was not reality but myth.
He began to cry, not hysterically or screaming as people cry when concealed rage with tears, but with continuous sobs who has just discovered that he's alone and will be for long. He cried because safety and reason seemed to have left the world. Loneliness was a reality, but in this situation madness was also remotely a possibility.
Things were going very fast now. Too fast to suit him. Fantasy and reality had merged.
Time slowed and reality bent; on and on the eggman went.
Writing is like a little hole in reality that you can go through and you can get out and you can be someplace else for a while.
What happens to the wide-eyed observer when the window between reality and unreality breaks and the glass begins to fly?
Yet suppose further. Suppose that all worlds, all universes, met at a single nexus, a single pylon, a Tower. And within it, a stairway, perhaps rising to the Godhead itself. Would you dare climb to the top, gunslinger? Could it be that somewhere above all of endless reality, there exists a room?...' You dare not.' And in the gunslinger's mind, those words echoed: You dare not.
Few if any seemed to have grasped the Principle of Reality; new knowledge leads always to yet more awesome mysteries. Greater physiological knowledge of the brain makes the existence of the soul less possible yet more probable by the nature of the search.
The dream might have been more than a dream. It was as if a door in the wall of reality had come ajar... and now all sorts of unwelcome things were flying through.
Publicly, I have always expressed a great deal of confidence in human nature, but in private I have wondered if anybody would ever pay for anything on the Net, ... It now looks as though people will, and I am faced with the real possibility of finishing 'The Plant.'
Some people say that I must be a horrible person, but that's not true. I have the heart of a young boy -- in a jar on my desk.
That whole program took on a life of its own.
I think for many people there'll be no middle ground.
We know that they obtained these bodies in a fraudulent way and off the scale of acceptable practice.