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I am no theologian. I would not be surprised, however, if Heaven proved to be a cozy kitchen, where delicious treats appeared in the oven and in the refrigerator whenever you wanted them, and where the cupboards were full of good books.

Dean Koontz

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Dean Koontz
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: July 9
Author
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Everett
Pennsylvania
Dean Ray Koontz
Aaron Wolfe
Brian Coffey
David Axton
Deanna Dwyer
John Hill
K.R. Dwyer
Leigh Nichols
Anthony North
Owen West
Richard Paige
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Oven

More quotes by Dean Koontz

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Some days I'm lucky to squeeze out a page of copy that pleases me, but I get as many as six or seven pages on a very good day the average is probably three pages.
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How passionately we love everything that cannot last: the dazzling crystallory of winter, the spring in bloom, the fragile flight of butterflies, crimson sunsets, a kiss, and life.
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Vladimir Nabokov said the two great evils of the 20th century were Marx and Freud. He was absolutely correct.
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Because people see violence on the movie screen, they're not going to go out and hold up a liquor store and kill somebody. It really doesn't correlate.
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The hands of every clock are shears, trimming us away scrap by scrap, and every time piece with a digital readout blinks us towards implosion.
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...he was part of a family whether he wanted to be or not, the family of humanity, more often than not a frustrating and contentious clan, flawed and often deeply confused, but also periodically noble and admirable, with a common destiny that every member shared.
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I think the world is an interesting place and I don't think anybody has the firm and final answer to what it is but I kind of assume there's a purpose.
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Every life is complicated, every mind a kingdom of unmapped mysteries.
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I am my own worst enemy. This, more than any other trait, proves my fundamental humanity.
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That was interesting, riding in the trunk, Milo said, but I wouldn't want to do it again.
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Each book is a mind alive, a life revealed, a world awaiting exploration, but living people are all those things, as well—and more, because their stories haven’t yet been completely told.
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In this world only the paranoid survive.
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I don't write a quick draft and then revise instead, I work slowly page by page, revising and polishing.
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A man begins dying at the moment of his birth. Most People live in denial of Death's patient courtship until, late in life and deep in sickness, they become aware of him sitting bedside.
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He once told me that an August evening was as hot as three toads in a Cuisinart, a comparison that left me blinking two days later.
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The human species was too fond of lying, cheating, envy, ignorance, self-pity, self-righteousness, and utopian visions that always led to mass murder-but until and if it destroyed itself, it harbored the potential to become nobler, to take responsibility for its actions, to live and let live, and to earn the stewardship of the earth.
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Literary fiction, as a strict genre, is all but dead. Meanwhile, most genres flourish.
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But victimhood was seductive, a release from responsibility and caring. Fear would be transmuted into weary resignation failure would no longer generate guilt but, instead, would spawn a comforting self-pity.
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When social forces press for the rejection of age-old Truth, then those who reject it will seek meaning in their own truth. These truths will rarely be Truth at all they will be only collections of personal preferences and prejudices.
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Few human beings give of themselves to another as a dog gives of itself.
Dean Koontz