The Body

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are things you get ashamed of, because words make them smaller. When they were in your head they were limitless; but when they come out they seem to be no bigger than normal things. But that's not all. The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried; they are clues that could guide your enemies to a prize they would love to steal. It's hard and painful for you to talk about these things ... and then people just look at you strangely. They haven't understood what you've said at all, or why you almost cried while you were saying it.

Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.

Speech destroys the function of love, I think-that's a hell of a thing for a writer to say, I guess, but I believe it to be true. If you speak to tell a deer you mean it no harm, it glides away with a single flip of its tail. Love has teeth; they bite; the wounds never close. No word, no combination of words can close those love bites. it's the other way around, that's the joke. If those wounds dry up, the words die with them.

I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, did you?

Gordie: Do you think I'm weird? Chris: Definitely. Gordie: No man, seriously. Am I weird? Chris: Yeah, but so what? Everybody's weird

Homesickness is not always a vague, nostalgic, almost beautiful emotion, although that is somehow the way we always seem to picture it in our mind. It can be a terribly keen blade, not just a sickness in metaphor but in fact as well. It can change the way one looks at the world; the faces one sees in street look not just indeferent but ugly...perhaps even malignant. Homesickness is real sickness--the ache of the uprooted plant" the breathing method

It's hard to make strangers care about the good things in your life.

And I wonder if there is really any point to what I'm doing, or what I'm supposed to make of a world where a man can get rich playing "let's pretend

I'll see you.' He grinned. 'Not if i see you first.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them--words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were In your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.

Teddy, Vern, Chris: I don't shut up. I grow up. And when I look at you, I throw up. Aghhh! Gordie: And then your mom goes around the corner and she licks it up.

A great whispering noise began to rise in the woods on either side of the tracks, as if the forest had just noticed we were there and was commenting on it.

Feeling it, trying to understand the suns that shone on it, the rains that fell on it, and the snows that covered it. And to wonder where I was when each thing happened to it in its lonely place, where I was, what I was doing, who I was loving, how I was getting along, where I was. I’d hold it, read it, feel it... and look at my own face in whatever reflection might be left.

Gordie: Alright, alright, Mickey's a mouse, Donald's a duck, Pluto's a dog. What's Goofy? Vern: If I could only have one food for the rest of my life? That's easy-Pez. Cherry-flavored Pez. No question about it. Teddy: Goofy's a dog. He's definitely a dog. Gordie: I knew the $64,000 question was fixed. There's no way anybody could know that much about opera! Chris: He can't be a dog. He drives a car and wears a hat. Gordie: Wagon Train's a really cool show, but did you notice they never get anywhere? They just keep wagon training. Vern: Oh, God. That's weird. What the hell is Goofy?

The Writer: [voiceover] I was 12 going on 13 the first time I saw a dead human being. It happened in the summer of 1959-a long time ago, but only if you measure in terms of years. I was living in a small town in Oregon called Castle Rock. There were only twelve hundred and eighty-one people. But to me, it was the whole world.

Chris: I'm never gonna get out of this town am I, Gordie? Gordie: You can do anything you want, man. Chris: Yeah, sure. Give me some skin. Gordie: I'll see ya. Chris: Not if I see you first.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words make them smaller. When they were in your head, they were limitless; but when they come out they seem to be no bigger than normal things.

The most important things are the hardest things to say

Chris: How do you know if a Frenchman has been in your backyard? Teddy: Hey, I'm French, okay? Chris: Your garbage cans are empty and your dog's pregnant. [Chris and Gordie laugh] Teddy: Didn't I just say I was French?

You always know the truth, because when you cut yourself or someone else with it, there's always a bloody show.

But it was the first time I had ever really used the place I knew and the things I felt in a piece of fiction, and there was a kind of dreadful exhiliration in seeing things that had troubled me for years come out in a new form, a form over which I had imposed control.

The only two useful art forms are religion and stories.

Friends come and go like waiters in a restaurant, did you ever notice that? [...] Some people drown, that’s all. It’s not fair, but it happens

Everything seemed to stand out with a special dearness, and although I never could have said that out loud I didn't think it mattered - maybe that sense of dearness was something I wanted just for myself.

It seemed right to do it this way, because the rite of passage is a magic corridor and so we always provide an aisle - it's what you walk down when you get married, what they carry you down when you get buried. Our corridor was those twin rails, and we walked between them, just bopping along toward whatever this was supposed to mean.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding that you've said it all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried when you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an uderstanding ear.

The most important thing, are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them—words shrink things that were in your head to more than living size when they are brought out. But, it's more than that isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure that your enemies would love to steal away. And you make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all or, why you thought that it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst I think. When a secret stays locked in not for want of teller but for want of understanding ear.

The most important things are the hardest things to say.