The mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows
Stephen King
The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there...and still on your feet.
If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.
I don't want Church to be like all those dead pets! I don't want Church to ever be dead! He's my cat! He's not God's cat! Let God have His own cat! Let God have all the damn old cats He wants, and kill them all! Church is mine!
The road to hell is paved with adverbs.
Only enemies speak the truth; friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty.
The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you? get ashamed of because words diminish your feelings - words shrink things that seem timeless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out.
Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.
?There are books full of great writing that don't have very good stories. Read sometimes for the story... don't be like the book-snobs who won't do that. Read sometimes for the words--the language. Don't be like the play-it-safers who won't do that. But when you find a book that has both a good story and good words, treasure that book. ?
Books are a uniquely portable magic.
No good friends, no bad friends; only people you want, need to be with. People who build their houses in your heart
Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot if difference. They don't have to makes speeches. Just believing is usually enough.
You can't deny laughter when it comes, it plops down in your favorite chair and stays as long as it wants.
If you wrote something for which someone sent you a cheque, if you cashed the cheque and it didn't bounce, and if you then paid the light bill with the money, I consider you talented.
People want to know why I do this, why I write such gross stuff. I like to tell them that I have the heart of a small boy -- and I keep it in a jar on my desk.
When his life was ruined, his family killed, his farm destroyed, Job knelt down on the ground and yelled up to the heavens, 'Why god? Why me?' and the thundering voice of God answered, 'There's just something about you that pisses me off.'
Only enemies speak the truth friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty.
Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.
Hope is a good thing - maybe the best thing, and no good thing ever dies
We'll just have to get along. That's what people do, you know? They just get along. And try to help each other.
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