So I took the twine, and felt the old familiar thrill. It tugged the way a fishing-line does when a fair-sized trout has taken the hook, but the nice thing about kite-flying is nothing gets killed.
I had a car, but on most days in that fall of 1973 I walked to Joyland from Mrs. Shoplaw’s Beachside Accommodations in the town of Heaven’s Bay.
[incipit]
I can’t understand why people use religion to hurt each other when there’s already so much pain in the world. Religion is supposed to comfort.
Mrs. Shoplaw
Joyland, Stephen King
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