She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there was nothing physically wrong. She hurt all the time. (p.72)
There was an iron scream behind his lips, but he would not let it out. His mommy and daddy could not see such things; they never had. He would keep quiet. His mommy and daddy were loving each other, and that was a real thing. The other things were just like pictures in a book. Some pictures were scary, but they couldn't hurt you. They...couldn't...hurt you. (p. 105)
The bewilderment seemed to grow and for a moment she saw his true face, the one he ordinarily kept so well hidden, and it was a face of desperate unhappiness, the face of an animal caught in a snare beyond its ability to decipher and render harmless. Then the muscles began to work, began to writhe under the skin, the mouth began to tremble infirmly, the Adam's apple began to rise and fall. (p. 256)
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. (p. 269)
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. (p.272)
Of course we're friends...we are both civilized men, aren't we? We've shared bed and board and bottle. We'll always be friends, and the dog collar I have on you will be ignored in mutual consent, and I'll take good and benevolent care of you. All I ask in return is your soul...Remember my talented friend, there are Michelangelos begging everywhere in the streets of Rome... (p. 278)
I believe these stories exist because we sometimes need to create unreal monsters and bogies to stand in for all the things we fear in our real lives… (Introduction)
That truth is that monsters are real, and ghosts are real, too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win. (Introduction, on Jack Torrance)
And sometimes that light, that shine, seemed like a pretty nice thing...But that was only the dressing...You could taste pain and death and tears. And now the boy was stuck in the place...He would do what he could, because if he didn't, the boy was going to die right inside his head. (p. 469)
"Doc," Jack Torrance said. "Run away. Quick. And remember how much I love you."
"No," Danny said.
"Oh Danny, for God's sake—"
"No," Danny said. He took one of his father's bloody hands and kissed it. "Its almost over." (p. 632)