Stephen King

Sometimes, the best way to deal with a problem is to ignore it. But sometimes, the best way to deal with a problem is to confront it head-on.

There are no bad ideas. Only bad executions.

I saw something even more beautiful than a sense of humor: an appreciation for life's essential absurdity.

Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.

When asked, 'How do you write?' I invariably answer, 'one word at a time.'

When I'm asked for 'the secret of my success' (an absurd idea, that, but impossible to get away from), I sometimes say there are two: I stayed physically healthy, and I stayed married. It's a good answer because it makes the question go away, and because there is an element of truth in it.

He referred to himself as 'the literary equivalent of a Big Mac and fries.'

Humor is almost always anger with its make-up on.

The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn't real. I know that, and I also know that if I'm careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle.

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.'

If you liked being a teenager, there's something really wrong with you.

I think that we're all mentally ill; those of us outside the asylums only hide it a little better--and maybe not all that much better, after all.

What's the difference between Trump's cabinet and a cactus? With a cactus, all the pricks are on the outside. Thank you, I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitress.

We were having tea with my mother-in-law the other day and out of the blue she said, 'I've decided I want to be cremated.' I said, 'Alright, get your coat.'

There ain't no cure for dumb.

My newest horror story: Once upon a time there was a man named Donald Trump, and he ran for president. Some people wanted him to win.

I have a writing room. Actually, it's a one-room studio. There's even a couch. And if you think that's pretentious, go fuck yourself.

Why did Donald J. Trump cross the road? To see Haitians eating pets on the other side.

Dinner: Get a nice salmon filet at the supermarket, not too big. Put some olive oil and lemon juice on it. Wrap it in damp paper towels. Nuke it in the microwave for 3 minutes or so. Eat it. Maybe add a salad.

I'm baaaack! Did you miss me?