If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.

He could feel the pores of his body open like a million mouths and slurp the water in like a sponge.

Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.

I never have a thematic intention at the outset. The story informs the theme for me rather than the other way around. But as it happens... this is, at least to a degree, about getting old and the rapid passage of our lives.

He needs to be corrected, if you don't mind me saying so. He needs a good talking-to, and perhaps a bit more. My own girls, sir, didn't care for the Overlook at first. One of them actually stole a pack of my matches and tried to burn it down. I corrected them. I corrected them most harshly. And when my wife tried to stop me from doing my duty, I corrected her.

An idea is like a cold germ: sooner or later someone always catches it.

Lover," she whispers, and closes her eyes. It falls upon her. Love is like dying.