But it's Sunday, Mr. Bell. Clocks are slow on Sundays.

Half the people who snuff people, that's what they want: recognition. Get their picture in the paper.

I like to talk on TV about those things that aren't worth writing about.

A conversation is a dialogue, not a monologue. That's why there are so few good conversations: due to scarcity, two intelligent talkers seldom meet.

I can see every monster as they come in.

Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home. Two miles, and come home. One day she just kept on.

You don't understand. You've never hated anybody. No, I never have. We're allotted just so much time on earth, and I wouldn't want the Lord to see me wasting mine in any such manner.