Stephen King, The Stand

"I am not the potter, not the potter's wheel, but the potter's clay; is not the value of the shape attained as dependent upon the intrinsic worth of the clay as upon the wheel and the Master's skill?"

"Nobody likes to see a stupid guy wise up."

"that this is Russian-A flu, not the more dangerous Swine flu."

"He died with his tie on. Do you think that could be our generation’s equivalent of that old saying about dying with your boots on? Harry Blakemoor died with his tie on. I like it, Larry."

"Call me Richard. That’s my real name. Call me that."

"His name is Legion. He is the king of nowhere."

"She saw clearly a boy and a man fighting for control of the same face."

"I am not the potter, nor the potter's wheel, but the potter's clay, does it depend on the value achieved intrinsic as much as the value of the clay as the wheel and master craftsmanship?"

"It's hard enough for a person to keep their own socks pulled up, let alone someone else's."

". . . On either side of them the essence of honky tonk beach resort had now enclosed them: gas stations, fried clam stands, Dairy Treets, motels painted in feverish pastel colors, mini golf. “Larry was drawn two painful ways by these things. Part of him clamored at their sad and blatant ugliness and at the ugliness of the minds that had turned this section of a magnificent, savage coastline into one long highway amusement park for families in station wagons. But there was a more subtle, deeper part of him that whispered of the people who had filled these places and this road during other summers. Ladies in sunhats and shorts too tight for their large behinds. College boys in red and black striped rugby shirts. Girls in beach shifts and thong sandals. Small screaming children with ice cream spread over their faces. They were American people, and there was a kind of dirty, compelling romance about them whenever they were in groups never mind if the group was in an Aspen ski lodge or performing their prosaic/ arcane rites of summer along Route 1 in Maine. And now all these Americans were gone. . . . Stephen King, from The Stand p. 303 304"

"People who try hard to do the right thing always seem mad."

"The thought process can never be complete without articulation."

"He didn’t like the way things were going. There were bad omens in the wind, evil portents like bats fluttering in the dark loft of a deserted barn."

"She could smell damprot, high, sweet, and cloying. She could smell madness like dead vegetables in a dark cellar."

"By the time he was done with the deer it had been dark three hours and his bad leg was singing 'Ave Maria'."

"Every man or woman who loves [God], they hate Him too, because He's a hard God, a jealous God, He Is, what He Is, and in this world He's apt to repay service with pain while those who do evil ride over the roads in Cadillac cars. Even the joy of serving Him is a bitter joy."

"No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just... come out the other side."

"Even the company of the mad was better than the company of the dead."

"He had been (Thinking? Praying?) It was all the same thing."

"When certain seeds are planted, they nearly always grow."