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

Your first impulse is to share good news, your second is to club someone with it.

If you want to play, you gotta pay.

As we get older, our fears, in some way, sharpen and become more personal, because we can no longer - let's say take a book like "It" or maybe "Christine," and say these are make-believe fears.

Coincidences happen, but I've come to believe they are actually quite rare. Something is at work, okay? Somewhere in the universe (or behind it), a great machine is ticking and turning its fabulous gears.

The terror, which would not end for another 28 years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.

It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.