Stephen King. Bag of bones (№ 462139)

We all line up: we live for today, at any given moment we are engaged in one particular thing: we eat, we get sick, we breathe. Dentists fill only one root canal, shipbuilders work on only one ship. If your job is to write books, you write one specific page. We turn away from everything we know and fear. We study catalogs, watch football matches, choose between Sprint and ATT [the largest telephone companies in the United States, fiercely competing with each other. - explanation in the book]. We count the birds in the sky and turn away from the window if we hear footsteps in the corridor behind us; we say, yes, I agree, clouds often look like something: fish, unicorns, horsemen - but in reality they are just clouds, and we switch our attention to the next dish, the next pain, the next breath, the next page. That's how we are made.