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“Is it because I'm a girl?" Reluctantly, Bill nodded his head. She looked at him for a moment, her lips trembling, and Richie thought she would cry. Instead, she exploded. "Well, fuck you!" She whirled around to look at the others, and they flinched from her gaze, so hot it was nearly radioactive. "Fuck all of you if you think the same thing!" she turned back to Bill and began to talk fast, rapping him with words. "This is something more than some diddly shit kids game like tag, or guns, or hide and go seek, and you know it, Bill! We're supposed to do this, that's part of it! And you're not going to cut me out just because I'm a girl, do you understand? You better. Or I'm leaving right now!”

“That was the power of radio at its height. The Shadow, we were assured at the beginning of each episode, had "The power to cloud men's minds." It strikes me that, when it comes to fiction in the media, it is television and movies which so often cloud that part of our minds where the imagination moves most fruitfully; they do so by imposing the dictatorship of the visual set.”

“The 3 types of terror: The Gross-out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it's when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, it's when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel its breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there's nothing there...”

“I've tried here to delineate some of the differences between science fiction and horror, science fiction and fantasy, terror and horror, horror and revulsion more by example than by definition. All of which is very well, but perhaps we ought to examine the emotion of horror a little more closely--not in terms of definition but in terms of effect. What does horror do? Why do people want to be horrified... why do they pay to be horrified? Why an Exorcist? A Jaws? An Alien? But before we talk about why people crave the effect, maybe we ought to spend a little time thinking about components--and if we do not choose to define horror itself, we can at least examine the elements and perhaps draw some conclusions from them.”

“Last reason for reading horror: it’s a rehearsal for death. It’s a way to get ready. People say there’s nothing sure but death and taxes. But that’s not really true. There’s really only death, you know. Death is the biggie. Two hundred years from now, none of us are going to be here. We’re all going to be someplace else. Maybe a better place, maybe a worse place; it may be sort of like New Jersey, but someplace else. The same thing can be said of rabbits and mice and dogs, but we’re in a very uncomfortable position: we’re the only creatures—at least as far as we know, though it may be true of dolphins and whales and a few other mammals that have very big brains—who are able to contemplate our own end. We know it’s going to happen. The electric train goes around and around and it goes under and around the tunnels and over the scenic mountains, but in the end it always goes off the end of the table. Crash.”

“Hi, Lloyd, a little slow tonight isn't it?' Lloyd said it was. Lloyd asked him what would it be. 'Now I'm really glad you asked me that, really glad. Because I happen to have two twenties and two tens in my wallet and I was afraid they'd be sitting right there until sometime next April. There isn't a 7-Eleven around here, would you believe it? And I thought they had 7-Elevens on the fucking moon.' Lloyd sympathized. 'So here's what, you set me up an even twenty martinis...One for every month I've been on the wagon and one to grow on. You can do that, can't you? You aren't too busy? Lloyd said he wasn't busy at all. 'Good man. You line those martinis up right along the bar and I'm going to take them down, one by one. White man's burden, Lloyd my man.' Lloyd turned to do the job. Jack reached into his pocket for the money clip and came out with an Excedrin bottle instead. 'I seem to be momentarily light,' Jack said. 'How's my credit in this joint, anyhow?' Lloyd said his credit was fine. 'That's super. I like you, Lloyd. You were always the best of them. Best damned barkeep between Barre and Portland, Maine. Portland, Oregon for that matter.”

“The lion on the left had advanced all the way to the fence now; its muzzle was touching the boards. It seemed to be grinning at him. Jack backed up another two steps. His head was thudding crazily and he could feel the dry rasp of his breath in his throat. Now the buffalo had moved, circling to the right, behind and around the rabbit. The head was lowered, the green hedge horns pointing at him. The thing was, you couldn't watch all of them. Not all at once.”

“I wonder how much- or how little- they remember. I am somehow convinced that they don't remember any of it, because they don't need to remember. I'm the only one that hears the voice of the Turtle, the only one who remembers, because I'm the only one who stayed here in Derry. And because they're scattered to the four winds, they have no way of knowing the identical patterns their lives have taken. To bring them back, to show them that pattern....yes, it might kill some of them. It might kill all of them.”

“Evet anne." Ağzı kupkuruydu,ama kendine dudaklarını yalama izni vermeyecekti.Onun yerine sıkıca birbirine bastırdı.Babamın çalışma odasında kırmızı elbiseli küçük bir kız var ve kahkahalar atarak bir kenarına mengene monte edilmiş masanın altında saklanmış ve sıyrılmış dizlerini göğsüne çekip,sırtını bin çekmeceli büyük dolaba yaslamış halde oturarak daima orada olacak.Çok mutlu bir kız.Ama annemin salonunda çişini köpek gibi tutmayı beceremeyen çok daha küçük bir kız var.Küçük,kötü bir köpek yavrusu gibi.Ve ben aksini ne kadar dilesem de o daima salonda kalacak.”

“Bir gün buraya dönüp sana katılma teklifini tekrarlarsan muhtemelen kabul ederim Stu.İnsan ırkının laneti bu.Sosyallik.Aslında İsa şunu demeliydi. "Evet,hakikaten,iki ya da üçümüz bir araya geldiğinde bir başkasının canına okuyacak." Sana sosyolojinin bize insan ırkı hakkında bilgiler verdiğini söylememe gerek var mı?Bak şöyle anlatayım.Bana tek başına bir kadın ve ya erkek göster,sana bir aziz göstereyim.Sayıları ikiyi bulursa aşık olurlar.Üç olursa, 'topluluk' adını verdiğimiz şirin oluşum meydana gelir.Dört kişi olurlarsa bir piramit inşa ederler.Sayıları beş olursa biri dışlanır.Altı kişi olduklarında önyargıyı tekrar icat ederler.Yedi kişi olursa yedi yılda savaşı tekrar icat ederler.İnsan,Tanrı'nın yeryüzündeki yansıması olabilir,ama insan toplumu,şeytanın yansımasıdır ve daima eve dönmeye çalışır.”

“Onu hiç görmemişti;görmesine gerek yoktu.Öğle vakti mısırlar arasından geçen gölge,soğuk bir hava dalgasıydı.Sesi,onu korkutmuş olan bütün seslere bürünerek ona doğru geliyordu...yumuşakça konuştuğunda merdiven altındaki tosvuranböceğinin bir sevilenin öleceğini haber veren tıkırtısı; yükseldiğinde kıyamet gibi batıdan çıkıp gelen fırtınayla yıldırımlar oluşuyordu.Bazen de mısırlar arasında esen yalnız gece rüzgarının hışırtısından başka hiç ses olmaz ama adamın orada olduğunu bilirdi ve en kötüsü de buydu, çünkü yüzü olmayan adam Tanrı'dan sadece birazcık eksik gibiydi; o anlarda Mısır üzerinden sessizce uçmuş,kapının kanla işaretlenmediği bütün evlerdeki ilk evlatları öldürmüş kara meleğe dokunabilecek kadar yakın olduğunu hissediyordu.Onu en çok bu korkutuyordu.Korkusu onu yine küçük bir çocuğa çeviriyor,diğerlerinin onu gördüğünü,ondan korktuğunu ama korkunç gücünü sadece kendisinin görebildiğini biliyordu.”

“İnsanın en büyük iki günahının kibir ve nefret olduğu söylenir.Öyle mi sahiden?Bana göre bunlar en büyük iki erdem.Kibir ve nefretten vazgeçmek,dünyanın iyiliği için çaba göstermek anlamına gelir.Oysa onları beslemek daha asil bir davranıştır; siz dünyanın iyiliği için değil,dünya sizin iyiliğiniz için çabalayacak demektir.Muhteşem bir maceradayım. Harold Emery Lauder”

“Para los niños ha llegado el momento de acostarse. Es hora de que los bebes sean arropados en sus cunitas, mientras los padres sonríen ante las protestas con que piden que los dejen levantados un rato más, que les dejen la luz encendida. Bondadosamente, abren las puertas de los roperos para que vean que no hay nada escondido allí dentro. En torno de todos ellos, la bestialidad de la noche alza el vuelo con sus alas tenebrosas. Ha llegado la hora de los vampiros.”

“When it comes to horror there's a strange need to analyze. When "evil children" fad happened, there was The Exorcist and The Other and The Omen. People would say, "What this really means is that Americans don't want to have kids anymore. They feel hostility towards their own children. They feel they're being tied down and dragged down." In fact, in most cases, what those books are about is nice children who are beset by forces beyond their control.”

“There were no horror movies or horror books to speak of in the '40s. I picked the '50s because that pretty well spans my life as an appreciator - as somebody who's been involved with this mass cult of horror, from radio and movies and Saturday matinees and books. In the '40s there really wasn't that much. People don't want to read about horrible things in horrible times. So, in the '40s, there was Val Lutin with The Cat People and The Curse of the Cat People and there wasn't much else.”

“By writing a horror novel where this inexplicable disorder takes over in our ordered lives, you make order look better by comparison. But below that, there's a part of us that responds to the Who bashing their instruments to pieces on the stage. There's a very primitive part that says, "Do it some more."”

“There's two kinds of evil that horror fiction always deals with. One kind is the sort of evil that comes from inside people, like in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The other kind of evil is predestined evil. It falls on you like a stroke of lightning. That's the scary stuff, but, in a way, it's the stuff you don't have to worry about. I gotta worry whether or not I'm getting cavities. I gotta worry about whether cigarettes are giving me cancer. Those are things I can change. Don't give me lightning out of a clear sky. If that hits me I just say, "That's probably the way God meant it to be."”

“I have always felt a little bit uncomfortable with question [why I'm write these stories]. It's not a question that you would ask a guy that writes detective stories or the guy that writes mystery stories, or westerns, or whatever. But it is asked of the writer of horror stories because it seems that there is something nasty about our love for horror stories, or boogies, ghosts and goblins, demons and devils.”

“I don't really get philosophical, but I believe that nice people are strong and usually in my horror stories, I don't like to write about the old standard where some rotten guy gets chased by a mean spirit that gets him in the end.I'd rather write about nice people that are menaced from outside by some sort of evil power and who sort of slug it out.”