If It Bleeds

by Stephen King

Sex is hard to figure out – something I learned even before I got to college – but crazy is even harder.

‘If he was groping me, he could at least send me two-dollar scratch tickets,’

‘Youth is a wonderful thing,’ said Mr Harrigan. ‘What a shame it’s wasted on children.’

I don’t have a television, because if I did, I would watch it, even though almost all of what it broadcasts is utter nonsense.

He was like the old maiden aunt who takes an experimental mouthful of brandy after sixty years of abstinence and becomes a genteel alcoholic almost overnight.

‘Get thee behind me, Satan. It’s like you taught me to smoke marijuana and enjoy it, and now you’re saying, “If you like pot, you’ll really like heroin.”

allowing people to name things after you was not only absurd but undignified and ephemeral.

Mr Harrigan had even left instructions for the exit music, and I thought, good for him.