What if the monster under your bed was real, and it knew your town’s darkest secrets and your heart’s deepest fears?
Stephen King’s monumental 1986 novel, It, drags this terrifying question into terrifying reality. The story chronicles seven outcast children in Derry, Maine—the Losers’ Club—who confront an ancient, shape-shifting evil in 1958 and are fated to return as adults to battle It once more twenty-seven years later.
King masterfully explores the nature of fear, the enduring power of childhood friendship, and the insidious darkness that can permeate a community.
We’ve collected 39 memorable Stephen King’s It quotes with page numbers (the Scribner 2017 paperback edition, ISBN: 978-1501182099).
Each quote is paired with insightful analysis, featuring deeper dives for pivotal lines illuminating core themes like fear, friendship, memory, and Pennywise the Dancing Clown’s terrifying machinations.
The unique malevolence of Derry itself, a town intrinsically linked to Its presence, is a crucial backdrop, amplifying the horror.
The terror that defines Derry and shapes the lives of the Losers’ Club often manifests through Its primary disguise: Pennywise the Dancing Clown. These quotes reveal Its insidious nature, Its understanding of fear, and the chilling pronouncements It makes.
The Many Faces of Fear: Pennywise’s Haunting Words
Stephen King’s entity, It, often appearing as Pennywise the Dancing Clown, is a master of psychological terror. The following quotes capture Its chilling ability to identify and exploit the deepest, most personal fears of Derry’s children and adults, using taunts, promises, and grotesque transformations to paralyze and consume. Pennywise’s words are not just threats; they’re windows into the nature of fear and the ancient, cosmic evil It represents.
“Want your boat, Georgie?’ Pennywise asked. ‘I only repeat myself because you really do not seem that eager.’ He held it up, smiling. He was wearing a baggy silk suit with great big orange buttons. A bright tie, electric-blue, flopped down his front, and on his hands were big white gloves, like the kind Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck always wore.”
(Character: Pennywise, Part 1, Chapter 1, Page 14)
Pennywise’s initial interaction with Georgie masterfully employs a disarming, almost cartoonish facade—complete with a “Mickey Mouse” aesthetic—to lure his victim. This juxtaposition of childish innocence with predatory intent highlights Its insidious methodology of exploiting trust and familiarity.
“’Float?’ The clown’s grin widened. ‘Oh yes, indeed they do. They float! And there’s cotton candy…’ George reached. The clown seized his arm. And George saw the clown’s face change. What he saw then was terrible enough to make his worst imaginings of the thing in the cellar look like sweet dreams; what he saw destroyed his sanity in one clawing stroke. ‘They float,’ the thing in the drain crooned in a clotted, chuckling voice. It held George’s arm in its thick and wormy grip, it pulled George toward that terrible darkness where the water rushed and roared and bellowed as it bore its cargo of storm debris toward the sea… ‘Everything down here floats,’ that chuckling, rotten voice whispered, and suddenly there was a ripping noise and a flaring sheet of agony, and George Denbrough knew no more.”
(Character: Pennywise (It) and Narrator, Part 1, Chapter 1, Pages 14-16)
This harrowing passage marks the true unveiling of Pennywise’s monstrous nature, transforming the innocuous concept of “floating” into a terrifying promise of death and assimilation into Its domain. King’s graphic depiction of George’s final moments—the shift from enticing promises to the “clotted, chuckling voice” and the “thick and wormy grip”—establishes the visceral horror of It.
The description of George’s sanity being destroyed “in one clawing stroke” underscores its power to inflict not just physical but profound psychological damage. This scene is foundational, setting the stakes for the Losers’ Club and illustrating its predatory pattern of luring with innocence before unleashing unimaginable terror, which defines Its interaction with Derry’s children.
“We all float down here!”
(Character: Pennywise, Part 2, Chapter 4, Page 217)
This iconic line is Pennywise’s chilling invitation and a horrifying declaration of Its dominion. It signifies a grotesque parody of community, where victims are subsumed into Its terrifying existence in the sewers beneath Derry. The phrase combines a seemingly playful tone with the macabre reality of death and supernatural imprisonment, making it one of the novel’s most unsettling refrains.
“Want a balloon?”
(Character: Pennywise, Part 5, Chapter 19, Page 939)
Pennywise’s deceptively simple offer of a balloon is a recurring symbol of Its predatory nature. Balloons, typically associated with childhood celebrations, are twisted by It into lures and harbingers of death, demonstrating how It corrupts innocence to ensnare Its victims.
“I’m the Turtle, son. I made the universe, but please don’t blame me for it; I had a belly-ache.”
(Character: Pennywise (mimicking/mocking the Turtle), Part 5, Chapter 22, Page 1070)
Pennywise’s blasphemous impersonation of Maturin, the benevolent Turtle deity, reveals Its cosmic arrogance and nihilistic worldview. By trivializing creation to a “belly-ache,” It seeks to undermine all sources of meaning and hope, showcasing Its ancient enmity with the forces of good and Its ability to pervert even sacred concepts for psychological torment.
“once you get into cosmological shit like this, you got to throw away the instruction manual”
(Character: Pennywise, Part 5, Chapter 22, Page 1071)
This chillingly nonchalant statement from Pennywise underscores the incomprehensible, the conflict’s transdimensional nature. It suggests that the Losers’ battle against It operates outside conventional rules and human understanding, requiring an abandonment of ordinary logic and a reliance on deeper, more intuitive forms of power like belief and imagination.
“What can be done when you’re eleven can often never be done again.”
(Character: Pennywise, Part 5, Chapter 22, Page 1077)
Pennywise’s ominous observation touches upon a core theme: childhood belief’s unique and potent power. It implies that the unjaded conviction and imaginative force of youth, which were key to the Losers’ initial confrontation, are qualities that diminish with age, thereby posing a significant challenge to their adult selves when they return to fight It again.
“Tell your friends I am the last of a dying race,’ it said, grinning its sunken grin as it staggered and lurched down the porch steps after her. ‘The only survivor of a dying planet. I have come to rob all the women . . . rape all the men . . . and learn to do the Peppermint Twist!”
(Character: Pennywise to Beverly, Part 4, Chapter 17)
This bizarre outburst from Pennywise to Beverly combines cosmic horror with grotesque, anachronistic absurdity. The claim of being the “last of a dying race” hints at Its ancient, extradimensional origins, this is immediately undercut by the almost Vaudevillian threat to “learn to do the Peppermint Twist!”
This jarring juxtaposition showcases Its terrifying ability to blend the utterly alien with the disturbingly mundane and nonsensical, creating an unpredictable menace that defies rational categorization and amplifies psychological horror.
“Kill him, Henry! Kill the nigger, kill the coon, kill him, kill him, KILL HIM!”
(Character: It (as Stan’s head), Part 5, Chapter 19)
Channeled through the horrifying apparition of Stan Uris’s severed head, It’s raw command to Henry Bowers reveals Its capacity to exploit and amplify the darkest human prejudices. The use of vile racial slurs is a calculated move to incite Henry’s existing hatred for Mike Hanlon, demonstrating how It weaponizes societal evils and individual malice to achieve Its destructive ends.
This moment underscores its profound understanding of human weakness and Its role as a catalyst for hate-fueled violence, merging supernatural terror with real-world bigotry.
“I am eternal. I am the Eater of Worlds.”
(Character: It, Part 5, Chapter 22)
This terrifying declaration from It, likely during the psychic confrontation of the Ritual of Chüd, is Its most direct and unambiguous assertion of Its own perceived nature and cosmic role. “Eternal” speaks to Its ancient, seemingly unending existence, far transcending human lifespans or earthly origins.
The title “Eater of Worlds” elevates Its malevolence from a localized Derry phenomenon to a universal, almost Lovecraftian threat—a predatory entity that consumes not just individuals or towns, but entire realities and civilizations. This quote is crucial for understanding the immense, almost incomprehensible scale of the evil the Losers confront, and the extraordinary courage required to stand against such a primordial, destructive force.
It is an entity deeply woven into the fabric of Derry, its influence extending beyond individual encounters to permeate the town’s history and atmosphere.
“We All Float Down Here”: The Allure and Menace of It
It is more than just a monster; It is an ancient, cosmic entity deeply intertwined with the town of Derry itself. It feeds on fear, but also on the town’s complicity and forgetfulness. These quotes delve into Its nature, Its connection to Derry, and the cyclical horror It perpetuates. They explore the chilling philosophy behind Its reign and the terrifying implications of Its existence.
“The terror, which would not end for another 28 years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.”
(Character: The Narrator, Part 1, Chapter 1, Page 3)
King’s iconic opening lines immediately establish the epic scope and cyclical nature of the horror that plagues Derry. The mundane, innocent image of a child’s paper boat is masterfully juxtaposed with the profound “terror” it initiates, hinting at how It corrupts childhood and how the ordinary can become a conduit for unimaginable evil.
The narrator’s conditional “if it ever did end” infuses the entire story with a pervasive sense of dread and the unsettling possibility that such ancient malevolence may be truly eternal and inescapable, setting the stage for the Losers’ desperate, generational struggle.
“I started after him…and the clown looked back. I saw Its eyes, and all at once I understood who It was.” “Who was it, Don?” Harold Gardner asked softly. “It was Derry,” Don Hagarty said. “It was this town.”
(Character: Don Hagarty and Harold Gardner, Part 1, Chapter 2, Page 36)
Don Hagarty’s chilling realization following Adrian Mellon’s murder articulates a central theme: It is not simply an entity residing in Derry, but is intrinsically bound to and perhaps synonymous with Derry. This suggests that the town itself—its dark history, collective apathy, buried secrets, and capacity for mundane human cruelty—is an extension or even a manifestation of the ancient evil.
The monster is not just under the streets but woven into the very fabric of the community, making the fight against It a fight against the soul of Derry itself.
“This is no illusion, you foolish little boy — this is eternity, My eternity, and you are lost in it, lost forever, never to find your way back; you are eternal now, and condemned to wander in the black . . . after you meet Me face to face, that is”
(Character: It (to Bill during the Ritual of Chüd), Part 5, Chapter 22)
As It hurls Bill Denbrough’s consciousness into the Macroverse during the Ritual of Chüd, It articulates Its own perceived nature and dominion with chilling authority. This quote reveals its view of Itself as an eternal, primordial entity, far beyond human comprehension or earthly confines.
The threat It poses transcends mere physical death, extending to a horrifying spiritual and psychological annihilation—an eternity spent lost and insane within the “deadlights,” the maddening, formless essence of Its true being. This moment highlights the immense, almost Lovecraftian scale of the evil the Losers confront.
“In Derry such forgetting of tragedy and disaster was almost an art, as Bill Denbrough would come to discover in the course of time.”
(Character: The Narrator, Part 1, Chapter 1, Page 4)
This crucial observation reveals a key aspect of Derry’s complicity with It: the town’s collective, almost pathological ability to forget or willfully ignore past atrocities. This cyclical amnesia allows Its reign of terror to continue, as each new generation remains largely ignorant of the town’s true history and the recurring pattern of horror, making them vulnerable once more.
“Can an entire city be haunted?”
(Character: Mike Hanlon (journal entry), Derry: The First Interlude)
Mike’s central, searching question in his chronicles encapsulates the pervasive and deeply embedded nature of Derry’s affliction. It suggests that the evil is not confined to specific haunted houses or monstrous encounters but has seeped into the very soul of the town, making every corner and shadow a potential manifestation of the haunting presence that defines Derry.
“You may come to think you’ve stumbled on the worst of Derry’s secrets… but there is always one more. And one more. And one more.”
(Character: Albert Carson to Mike Hanlon, Derry: The First Interlude)
The old librarian’s warning to Mike underscores the seemingly bottomless abyss of horror and tragedy that constitutes Derry’s true history. It implies that the evil It represents is ancient and has spawned countless horrors, each layer of discovery only revealing further, deeper darkness, hinting that the Losers are only scratching the surface of Its full nature and the town’s complicity.
“Derry is It. D-D-Do you uh-uh-understand m-m-me?”
(Character: Bill Denbrough, Part 4, Chapter 15)
Bill’s desperate, stuttered realization to the other adult Losers cuts to the terrifying heart of their predicament: It and the town of Derry are inextricably linked, almost the same entity. This suggests that the evil they fight is not just an external monster but something that has permeated the very essence and history of the town, its societal structures, and perhaps even the collective unconscious of its people. To fight It is to fight against Derry’s deeply ingrained soul.
Against this ancient evil and the complicit town stands the Losers’ Club, a group of seven outcast children whose bond of friendship, shared experiences of terror, and collective belief become their primary weapons.
The Losers’ Club: Quotes on Friendship, Courage, and Shared Trauma
The emotional core of Stephen King’s It resides in the extraordinary bond forged between the seven children known as the Losers’ Club. Bullied, neglected, or abused, they find strength, acceptance, and profound love in each other. Their shared encounters with Its terror forge an unbreakable connection that transcends memory and time. These quotes illuminate the power of their friendship, their individual and collective courage in the face of unimaginable horror, and the lasting, defining impact of their shared trauma.
“It was easier to be brave when you were someone else.”
(Character: The Narrator (reflecting on Richie), Part 1, Chapter 3, Page 62)
This insight into Richie Tozier’s use of “Voices” speaks to a broader coping mechanism many of the Losers employ. Adopting personas or finding courage through collective identity allows them to confront fears that might overwhelm them as individuals. Their group identity itself becomes a shield and a source of strength.
“The turtle couldn’t help us.”
(Character: Stanley Uris, Part 1, Chapter 3, Page 48)
Stan’s cryptic and seemingly random pronouncement, recalled by Patty Uris years later, resonates with a chilling prescience regarding the cosmic scale of their conflict. It foreshadows the terrifying realization that even ancient, benevolent forces like the Turtle (Maturin), Its natural adversary, might have their limits or operate on a plane beyond direct intervention.
This line underscores the deep responsibility and terrifying solitude faced by the Losers, who must rely on their own internal strength and collective bond to combat an evil that transcends ordinary understanding, hinting that some battles must be fought without divine or cosmic aid.
“Seven, Richie thought. That’s the magic number. There has to be seven of us. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
(Character: Richie Tozier (narrated thought), Part 4, Chapter 15, Page 755)
Richie’s intuitive grasp of the number seven’s significance highlights their group and their quest’s mystical, almost preordained quality. In folklore and mythology, seven often represents completeness and power. For the Losers, their unity as seven distinct individuals forms the collective psychic and emotional force necessary to confront an ancient, multifaceted evil. Stan’s later absence critically breaks this “magic number.”
“Eddie discovered one of his childhood’s great truths. Grownups are the real monsters, he thought.”
(Character: Narrator about Eddie Kaspbrak’s thoughts, Part 4, Chapter 16, Page 782)
Eddie’s bitter epiphany, often born from the neglect or abuse the Losers suffer from adults, underscores the theme that mundane human cruelty frequently mirrors or enables the supernatural horror of It. For the Losers, the adult world often offers no protection, forcing them to rely solely on each other.
“Maybe there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends – maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for too, if that’s what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.”
(Character: Narrator about Eddie Kaspbrak’s thoughts, Part 4, Chapter 16, Page 817)
This profound meditation by Eddie articulates the novel’s core definition of friendship within the Losers’ Club. It transcends simplistic labels, focusing instead on unwavering loyalty, mutual support, and the deep emotional sanctuary friends provide (“people who build their houses in your heart”).
This understanding of friendship as an essential, life-affirming, and even sacrificial connection is the bedrock of their collective power against the isolating terror of It. It’s their most potent weapon, a bond forged in shared adversity and understanding, proving that human connection holds transformative power even in the face of cosmic horror.
“Swear to me that if IhIh-It isn’t d-d-dead, you’ll cuh-home back.”
(Character: Bill Denbrough, Part 5, Chapter 23, Page 1129)
Bill’s desperate, stuttered demand for this oath cements the Losers’ Club’s commitment. This blood promise, made after their first harrowing battle with It, becomes the binding force that draws them back to Derry twenty-seven years later. It signifies their shared responsibility and their childhood vow’s enduring, almost sacred nature.
“My heart’s with you, Bill, no matter how it turns out. My heart is with all of them, and I think that, even if we forget each other, we’ll remember in our dreams.”
(Character: Beverly Marsh, Derry: The Last Interlude, Page 1142)
Beverly’s poignant words, spoken as the adult Losers prepare to disperse, capture the bittersweet nature of their bond. She acknowledges the likelihood of their memories fading due to Its influence, yet expresses faith in a deeper, subconscious connection—that their shared experiences and love will persist in their dreams, an enduring testament to what they endured together.
“I loved you guys, you know. I loved you so much.”
(Character: Beverly Marsh, Derry: The Last Interlude, Page 1142)
Beverly’s simple, heartfelt declaration underscores the profound love that bound them. Despite the terror, their shared childhood experiences forged an unbreakable, loving connection that defined their lives and fueled their ultimate courage.
“He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts.”
(Character: Bill Denbrough (internal thought/chant), Part 3, Chapter 11, Pages 611, 612, 614, 617, 619, 681, 1056, 1070, and 1073)
This tongue-twister, a speech-therapy exercise, becomes a potent mantra for Bill Denbrough, symbolizing his struggle against fear, his stutter, and the overwhelming reality of It. Mastering and asserting this phrase—to “insist he sees the ghosts”—represents the courage to confront the unspeakable and to affirm one’s perception and resolve in the face of terrifying, reality-bending evil. It’s a declaration of defiance and belief in his power to name and thus fight the horror.
“Beep-beep, Richie.”
(Character: Various Losers to Richie Tozier, e.g., Part 4, Chapter 13, Page 705 approx.)
This recurring, playful admonishment is an affectionate in-joke and a gentle regulatory mechanism within the Losers’ Club, typically used when Richie Tozier’s “Voices” or jokes verge on becoming overwhelming or ill-timed. It signifies their familiar, often exasperated, yet ultimately loving acceptance of Richie’s chaotic humor, which is a defense mechanism for him and a vital source of tension-relief for the group.
“Beep-beep” is a comradely corrective, a lighthearted way of maintaining group cohesion without truly silencing Richie’s essential comedic spirit.
“W-W-We’re a cluh-club. Y-You can be in the club if you w-w-want, but y-y-you have to kee-keep our see-see-secrets.”
(Character: Bill Denbrough to Mike Hanlon, Part 4, Chapter 15)
Bill’s invitation to Mike Hanlon, with its condition of secrecy, marks a pivotal moment in the formalization of the Losers’ Club. It underscores the exclusivity born of their shared, terrifying knowledge of It. The “secrets” extend beyond their clubhouse to the monstrous reality they alone seem to perceive, necessitating a tightly-knit alliance built on mutual trust and the shared burden of confronting an evil invisible to the wider world.
“If you should see something, don’t fight. Run.”
(Character: Bill Denbrough, Part 4, Chapter 15)
Bill’s pragmatic advice to the Losers before they embark on their individual “walking tours” of Derry highlights his emerging leadership and his understanding of the immediate, physical danger It poses. Despite their resolve to fight, this is a leader’s responsible caution, acknowledging their vulnerability and prioritizing individual survival in the face of an enemy whose full power is still being assessed, a necessary prelude to any collective confrontation.
The cyclical nature of Its terror is inextricably linked to memory, forgetting, and the agonizing process of confronting a past that refuses to stay buried.
Echoes of Childhood: Memory, Belief, and the Promise to Return
Stephen King’s It intricately explores how the past continually shapes and haunts the present. As adults, the Losers’ Club members are forced to confront not only the resurgent evil of Pennywise but also the fragmented, terrifying memories of their shared childhood. Their ability to remember, to rekindle the potent force of their youthful belief, and to honor their solemn oath becomes paramount to their survival and their desperate hope of finally destroying It.
These quotes delve into the powerful themes of memory’s persistence and elusiveness, the unique strength of childhood conviction, and the enduring, terrible weight of a promise sealed in blood.
“Maybe that’s why God made us kids first and built us close to the ground, because He knows you got to fall down a lot and bleed a lot before you learn that one simple lesson. You pay for what you get, you own what you pay for . . . and sooner or later whatever you own comes back home to you.”
(Character: Ben Hanscom (narrated thought), Part 1, Chapter 3, Page 83)
Ben Hanscom’s poignant adult reflection is a philosophical cornerstone of the novel, articulating the harsh, formative lessons of childhood and the inescapable nature of consequence. The idea that childhood’s proximity to the ground prepares one for falls and bleeding speaks to the vulnerability inherent in early experiences, a vulnerability acutely felt by the Losers.
The latter part of the quote, “You pay for what you get… whatever you own comes back home to you,” becomes a powerful mantra for their fated return to Derry. Their shared past, their promise to fight It, and the deep scars It inflicted are burdens and possessions they “own,” inevitably drawing them back to their origins for a final, terrifying reckoning. It suggests a cyclical and almost karmic view of their destiny against an ancient evil.
“Home is the place where when you go there, you have to finally face the thing in the dark.”
(Character: The Narrator, Part 1, Chapter 3, Page 93)
This chilling redefinition of “home” subverts the traditional notion of it as a place of safety and sanctuary, particularly for the adult Losers. Returning to Derry, their childhood home, signifies not a retreat to comfort but a voluntary re-entry into a place of terror. It means an unavoidable confrontation with the ultimate “thing in the dark”—It—and, by extension, their own deeply buried traumas, repressed fears, and the unresolved horrors of their past. Derry itself becomes the active landscape of their darkest psychological and spiritual battles.
“The energy you drew on so extravagantly when you were a kid, the energy you thought would never exhaust itself – that slipped away somewhere between eighteen and twenty-four, to be replaced by something much duller… The kid in you just leaked out, like the air of a tire.”
(Character: The Narrator (Richie’s thoughts), Part 4, Chapter 15, Pages 743-44)
Richie Tozier’s melancholic and insightful reflection captures the profound, often lamented loss of childhood’s boundless energy, vivid imagination, and, most importantly, its unjaded capacity for potent belief—instrumental qualities, perhaps even essential, in their first harrowing fight against It.
This perceived diminishment of “kid energy” represents a significant handicap for the adult Losers. The metaphor of this vital essence “leaking out, like the air out of a tire,” suggests a slow, almost imperceptible erosion of their most formidable weapon against an entity that thrives on adult rationality and compromised imagination, highlighting the immense challenge they face in trying to recapture that faded power.
“Come on back and we’ll see if you remember the simplest thing of all – how it is to be children, secure in belief and thus afraid of the dark.”
(Character: The Narrator (Mike’s thoughts/It’s psychic call), Derry: The Fourth Interlude, Page 908)
This haunting summons, whether originating from Mike Hanlon’s own deepest anxieties or It’s insidious psychic manipulation, highlights the central paradox of the Losers’ adult struggle. To effectively combat It, they must remember and re-embrace the mindset of children, specifically, their capacity for unshakeable belief and vivid imagination, which fuels their collective power.
However, this necessary regression also means re-experiencing the raw, primal fear of the dark (and its manifold manifestations), the very terror that feeds It. Their greatest potential strength is inextricably and terrifyingly linked to their greatest vulnerability, a dangerous psychic tightrope they must walk.
“When I die, I guess I’ll go with a library card in one hand and an OVERDUE stamp in the other. Well, maybe there’s worse ways.”
(Character: Mike Hanlon, Part 5, Chapter 19, Page 931)
Mike Hanlon’s characteristically wry and fatalistic comment reflects his lifelong dedication to knowledge, history, and his solemn, self-appointed role as Derry’s chronicler and the Losers’ “lighthouse keeper”—the one who stayed behind to watch and remember.
His entire adult life has been spent within the Derry Public Library, meticulously piecing together the town’s dark, cyclical history and patiently waiting for Its inevitable return. This image of a scholar even unto death encapsulates his quiet heroism and deep connection with the haunted town’s recorded memory.
“You don’t have to look back to see those children; part of your mind will see them forever. They are not necessarily the best part of you, but they were once the repository of all you could become.”
(Character: The Narrator (Bill’s thoughts), Epilogue: Bill Denbrough, Page 1150)
Bill Denbrough’s final, deep reflection in the epilogue captures the enduring, inescapable presence of one’s childhood self within the adult psyche. The “children” the Losers were—with their intense fears, their unwavering beliefs, their fierce loyalties, and their extraordinary courage—are not merely memories to be recalled, but an integral, foundational part of their adult identities.
Though adulthood inevitably brings change, loss, and the erosion of specific memories, that core childhood experience, the “repository of all you could become,” remains a powerful, shaping force, a testament to the indelible impact of early life and the unique bonds forged in shared adversity against an unspeakable evil.
“Drive away and try to keep smiling. Get a little rock and roll on the radio and go toward all the life there is with all the courage you can find and all the belief you can muster. Be true, be brave, stand. All the rest is darkness.”
(Character: The Narrator (Bill’s thoughts), Epilogue: Bill Denbrough, Page 1150)
This closing passage, representing Bill Denbrough’s (and perhaps King’s own) final exhortation, offers a powerful and bittersweet philosophy for living in the wake of profound trauma and an existential confrontation with horror.
It champions the conscious, active choice to move forward (“Drive away”), to embrace life’s simple, unadulterated joys (“get a little rock and roll on the radio”), and to face an uncertain future armed with resilient courage and deliberate belief—the qualities the Losers had to summon and nurture to battle It.
The disturbing acknowledgment that “All the rest is darkness” does not negate this call to embrace life, but rather frames these acts of optimistic defiance as necessary and deeply meaningful in a world where such darkness coexists with, and often threatens, the light. It’s a call to carry the best of childhood’s courage into adulthood.
“Each life makes its own imitation of immortality: a wheel.”
(Character: Narrator (Bill’s thoughts), Epilogue: Bill Denbrough)
Bill’s concluding philosophical musing offers a metaphor for life’s journey and the nature of memory. The “wheel” suggests cycles, recurrence, and the idea that past experiences, relationships, and even traumas continue to revolve and shape the present, creating a personal pattern.
It implies that while individual lives are finite, the patterns of love, loss, courage, and memory create their “imitation of immortality,” echoing through time and connecting generations, much like the recurring 27-year cycle of Its terror in Derry.
“We lie best when we lie to ourselves.”
(Character: The Narrator (Mike’s thoughts), Derry: The Second Interlude, Page 445)
This astute observation, likely from Mike Hanlon’s journals, delves into the psychology of self-deception. It suggests that the most convincing falsehoods are those we convince ourselves are true, a mechanism that allows individuals—and perhaps entire towns like Derry—to ignore uncomfortable truths or rationalize inaction in the face of evil.
This is particularly relevant to the Losers’ forgetting of their past and Derry’s collective amnesia, a form of self-protection that proves porous.
“Everything’s a lot tougher when it’s for real. That’s when you choke. When it’s for real.”
(Character: The Narrator (Stanley Uris’s thoughts, recalled by Patty), Part 1, Chapter 3, Page 41)
Stanley’s remark, remembered by his wife, reflects the immense pressure and difficulty of confronting genuine, life-threatening situations opposed to hypothetical or vicarious experiences. For the Losers, their battle is terrifyingly “for real,” and the propensity to “choke” or falter under such extreme duress is a constant threat they must overcome with collective courage and belief, a truth Stan himself ultimately succumbs to as an adult.
Conclusion: The Lingering Shadow and the Light of Friendship
The enduring power of Stephen King’s It resides not only in its terrifying antagonist but in its profound exploration of childhood’s intensity—its deep fears, fierce loyalties, and unique capacity for belief.
These 39 quotes illuminate the darkness that Pennywise and Derry represent, but they also shine a persistent light on the extraordinary courage forged in the crucible of friendship.
The Losers’ Club, armed with little more than their unity and the potent magic of their shared imagination, confronts an evil that most adults ignore or forget. Their story, captured in these memorable lines, is a testament to the idea that the bonds formed in childhood can become lifelines in the face of unimaginable horror, and that remembering—and believing—can be the most powerful weapon against the darkness that lurks without and within.
The selected words from King’s epic remind us that while fear is an inescapable part of the human condition, so is the capacity for love, courage, and the enduring strength found in standing together against the shadows.
A Note on Page Numbers & Edition:
Like Pennywise’s balloons, each promising a different delight (or terror) yet all tethered to the same chilling source, page numbers for Stephen King’s It can float differently across various editions. These page numbers (e.g., Page 3) reference the Scribner; Media tie-in edition (July 11, 2017), ISBN-13: 978-1501182099, where available; all page numbers require final verification against this specific edition. Always consult your copy to ensure precise location for academic or personal reference.
Jeremy Mortis, founder of Ageless Investing, applies a rigorous analytical approach (the AAM framework) to distill timeless wisdom and contextualized quotes from classic literature, saving you time while deepening understanding. Learn more about Jeremy’s unique background and methodology on his author bio page.