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Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters.

Monsters are real. Ghosts are too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win.

The world's a hard place, Danny. It don't care. It don't hate you and me, but it don't love us, either. Terrible things happen in the world, and they're things no one can explain. Good people die in bad, painful ways and leave the folks that love them all alone. Sometimes it seems like it's only the bad people who stay healthy and prosper. The world don't love you, but your momma does and so do I.

But see that you get on. That's your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what. Pull your act together and just go on.

She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there was nothing physically wrong. She hurt all the time.

Tough old world, baby. If you're not bolted together tightly, you're gonna shake, rattle, and roll before you turn thirty.

Are you sure self-pity is a luxury you can afford, Jack?.

He would write it for the reason he felt that all great literature, fiction and nonfiction, was written: truth comes out, in the end it always comes out. He would write it because he felt he had to.

Small children are great accepters. They don’t understand shame, or the need to hide things.

Living by your wits is always knowing where the wasps are.

We sometimes need to create unreal monsters and bogies to stand in for all the things we fear in our real lives.

What Jack didn't understand was that no matter where he went, the same asshole got off the plane.

I think all mothers shine a little, you know, at least until their kids grow up enough to watch out for themselves.

Children have to grow into their imaginations like a pair of oversized shoes.

That’s your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what.

You know, schizoid behavior is a pretty common thing in children. It’s accepted, because all we adults have this unspoken agreement that children are lunatics.

Once, during the drinking phase, Wendy had accused him of desiring his own destruction but not possessing the necessary moral fiber to support a full-blown deathwish. So he manufactured ways in which other people could do it, lopping a piece at a time off himself and their family.

A lot of folks, they got a little bit of shine to them. They don't even know it. But they always seem to show up with flowers when their wives are feelin blue with the monthlies, they do good on school tests they don't even study for, they got a good idea how people are feelin as soon as they walk into a room.

God wiped snot out of his nose and that was you.

The sleep of reason breeds monsters.

he looked to her like an absurd twentieth-century Hamlet, an indecisive figure so mesmerized by onrushing tragedy that he was helpless to divert its course or alter it in any way.

How many times, over how many years, had he—a grown man—asked for the mercy of another chance? He was suddenly so sick of himself, so revolted, that he could have groaned aloud.

Any big hotels have got scandals," he said. "Just like every big hotel has got a ghost. Why? Hell, people come and go. Sometimes one of em will pop off in his room, heart attack or stroke or something like that. Hotels are superstitious places. No thirteenth floor or room thirteen, no mirrors on the back of the door you come in through, stuff like that. [...].

She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there was nothing physically wrong.

When we grow up, concepts gradually get easier and we leave the images to the poets.

Innocence to experience. Human nature, baby. Grab it and growl.

He rolled in his bed, twisting the sheets, grappling with a problem years too big for him, awake in the night like a single sentinel on picket. And sometime after midnight, he slept, too, and then only the wind was awake, prying at the hotel and hooting in its gables under the bright gimlet gaze of the stars.

We all remember our pleasant dreams more clearly than the scary ones.

The wheels of progress; sooner or later they took you back to where you started from.

But it was a dreadful kind of curiosity, the kind that makes you peek through your fingers during the scariest parts of a scary movie.

the way things should be and the way things are hardly ever get together.

It was not just Danny the Overlook was working on. It was working on him, too. It wasn't Danny who was the weak link, it was him. He was the vulnerable one, the one who could be bent and twisted until something snapped.

Dying was a part of living. You had to keep tuning in to that if you expected to be a whole person. And if the fact of your own death was hard to understand, at least it wasn’t impossible to accept.

That’s your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what. Pull your act together and just go on.

People who shine can sometimes see things that are gonna happen, and I think sometimes they can see things that did happen. But they’re just like pictures in a book.

Jack Torrance thought: Officious little prick.

Hallorann saw a grave sort of beauty there that had been missing on the day he had first met her, some nine months ago. Then she had still been mostly girl. Now she was a woman, a human being who had been dragged around to the dark side of the moon and had come back able to put the pieces back together. But those pieces, Hallorann thought, they never fit just the same way again. Never in this world.

But grownups were always in a turmoil, every possible action muddied over by thoughts of the consequences, by self-doubt, by selfimage, by feelings of love and responsibility. Every possible choice seemed to have drawbacks, and sometimes he didn't understand why the drawbacks were drawbacks. It was very hard.