Quotes from John Steinbeck

Not this one. Adam's eyes were shining. You don't know this Eve. She'll celebrate my choice. I don't think anyone can know her goodness.

Dar Fauna era convinsa, dintr-o indelungata experienta proprie, ca in primul rand oamenii nu stiu ce vor, ca in al doilea rand nu stiu cum sa obtina ceea ce vor si ca in al treilea rand nu stiu sa profite de ceea ce au.

Casy said, He was foolin', all the time. I think he knowed it. An' Grampa didn' die tonight. He died the minute you took 'im off the place. You sure a that? Pa cried. Why, no. Oh, he was breathin, but he was dead. He was that place, an' he knowed it.

Somehow we didn't connect Germans with Mexicans. We went right back to our myths. One American was as good as twenty Germans. This being true, we had only to act in a stern manner to bring the Kaiser to heel. He wouldn't dare interfere with our trade—but he did. He wouldn't stick out his neck and sink our ships—and he did. It was stupid, but he did, and so there was nothing for it but to fight him.

You're too young a man to be panning memories, Adam.

The first few years after Samuel came to Salinas Valley there was a vague distrust of him. And perhaps Will as a little boy heard talk in the San Lucas store. Little boys don't want their fathers to be different from other men. Will might have picked up his conservatism right then.

You're getting well," Samuel said. "Some people think it's an insult to the glory of their sickness to get well. But

And, oh, my God, it's over.

see, a bank or a company can't do that, because those creatures don't breathe air, don't eat side-meat. They breathe profits; they eat the interest on money. If they don't get it, they die the way you die without air, without side-meat. It is a sad thing, but it is so. It is just so.

Do you know, I loved you better than anything in the world? I did. It was so strong that it took quite a killing.

He's lonelier than you are because he has no lovely future to dream about.

Does anyone ever know even the outer fringe of another?

They were the worst threats to a home, for they offered ease and thought and companionship as opposed to neatness, order, and properness.

In that day an educated rich man was acceptable. He might send his sons to college without comment, might wear a vest and white shirt and tie in the daytime of a weekday, might wear gloves and keep his nails clean. And since the lives and practices of rich men were mysterious, who knows what they could use or not use? But a poor man––what need had he for poetry or for painting or for music not fit for singing or dancing?

Mi è sempre sembrato strano, disse il Dottore. Le cose che ammiriamo negli uomini, la bontà, la generosità, la franchezza, l'onestà, la saggezza e la sensibilità, sono in noi elementi che portano alla rovina. E le caratteristiche che detestiamo, la furberia, la cupidigia, l'avarizia, la meschinità, l'egoismo, portano al successo. E mentre gli uomini ammirano le prime di queste qualità, amano il risultato delle seconde.

She sighed as she always does, a deep, gathered breath and a low release of luxury. Some people resent awakening, but not Mary. She comes to a day with the expectancy that it will be good.

How far's the nex' town? I seen forty-two cars a you fellas go by yesterday. Where you all come from? Where all of you goin'? Well, California's a big State. It ain't that big. The whole United States ain't that big. It ain't that big. It ain't big enough. There ain't room enough for you an' me, for your kind an' my kind, for rich and poor together all in one country, for thieves and honest men. For hunger and fat. Whyn't you go back where you come from?

This must be a good book," he wrote in Working Days on June 10, 1938. "It simply must. I haven't any choice. It must be far and away the best thing I have ever attempted—slow but sure, piling detail on detail until a picture and an experience emerge. Until the whole throbbing thing emerges.

Once Adam had remarked on the quiet splendor of Lee's clothes, and Lee had grinned at him. "I have to do it," he said. "One must be very rich to dress as badly as you do. The poor are forced to dress well.

The emotion of nonviolence was building in him until it became a prejudice like any other thought-stultifying prejudice. To inflict any hurt on anything for any purpose became inimical to him. He became obsessed with this emotion, for such it surely was, until it blotted out any possible thinking in its area. But never was there any hint of cowardice in Adam's army record. Indeed he was commended three times and then decorated for bravery.

A man who writes a story is forced to put into it the best of his knowledge and the best of his feeling. The discipline of the written word punishes stupidity and dishonesty. A writer lives in awe of words for they can be cruel or kind, and they can change their meanings right in front of you.

And now the forces marshaled around the concept of the group have declared a war of extermination on that preciousness, the mind of man. By disparagement, by starvation, by repressions, forced direction, and the stunning hammerblows of conditioning, the free, roving mind is being pursued, roped, blunted, drugged. It is a sad suicidal course our species seems to have taken.

You can boast about anything if it's all you have.

I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us, so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder. Humans are caught—in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too—in a net of good and evil. I think this is the only story we have and that it occurs on all levels of feeling and intelligence.