This is probably the single great subject of horror fiction: our need to cope with a mystery that can be understood only with the aid of a helpful imagination.
I think it is harder to write a story that appeals to the intellect. But, when you tie onto one, you can do it quite deeply. It really depends on the type of idea you have to begin with.
The best show on television is Red Sox baseball. Everything else sucks.
One of life’s great truths is this: when one is about to be struck by a speeding six-hundred pound Coke machine, one need worry about little else.
When you’re six, most of your Bingo balls are still floating around in the draw-tank.
If it’s OK to register cars and license drivers, why is it not OK to impose similar legal responsibilities on gun owners?
The poets continually and sometimes wilfully mistake love. Love is the old slaughterer.
The King is in his Tower, eating bread and honey. The Breakers in the basement, making all the money.
Only God gets things right the first time.
Sometimes when you’re young, you have moments of such happiness, you think you’re living on someplace magical, like Atlantis must have been. Then we grow up and our hearts break into two.
Most people are optimists, although they may claim they are not. People who call themselves realists are often the biggest optimists of all.
I get inspiration, a lot of times, from very commonplace things that just strike a chord and develop themselves in the subconscious.
This is how a man looks when he’s deciding that the risk of death is better than the risk of change.
I’m afraid of all kinds of things. I’m afraid of failing at whatever story I’m writing – that it won’t come up for me, or that I won’t be able to finish it.
I looked at the ceiling and wished this life was over. This unhappy life that had started out so confidently. I thought I would sleep no more that night but eventually I did. In the end we always wear out our worries. That’s what Wire man says.
My mother was a reader, and she read to us. She read us Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde when I was six and my brother was eight; I never forgot it.
True love always happens in a flash.
Everything in moderation. And that includes a couple of beers a day.
A slice of pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze.
I believe there is an unseen world all around us.