John Steinbeck Quotes - Page 40 | Just Great DataBase

Riches seem to come to the poor in spirit, the poor in interest and joy. To put it straight—the very rich are a poor bunch of bastards. He wondered if that were true. They acted that way sometimes. He

I never fixed no car in my life 'thout cuttin' myself. Now it's done I don't have to worry no more.

I remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers. I remember where a toad may live and what time the birds awaken in the summer—and what trees and seasons smelled like—how people looked and walked and smelled even. The memory of odors is very rich.

I climb fences when i got fences to climb.

There were people who gave everything they had to the war because it was the last war and by winning it we would remove war like a thorn from the flesh of the world and there wouldn't be any more such horrible nonsense.

Al bent over her. And he saw the bright evening star reflected in her eyes, and he saw the black cloud reflected in her eyes.

It's hard to split a man down the middle and always to reach for the same half.

Mężczyźni zatrzymali się u płotów patrząc na zniszczoną kukurydzę, schnącą w ich oczach, i na nieliczne plamy zieleni przebłyskujące tu i ówdzie spod powłoki kurzu. Patrzyli w milczeniu, nie ruszając się prawie z miejsca. Wyszły z domów i kobiety, by stanąć u boku swych mężczyzn i wyczuć, czy się tym razem nie załamią. Badały ukradkiem wyraz ich twarzy, mniejsza bowiem o zboże, byle pozostało coś innego, o wiele ważniejszego. Nie opodal stały dzieci rysując w kurzu palcami bosych stóp i również starając się przeniknąć dziecinną intuicją, czy ich rodzice załamią się, czy nie. Od czasu do czasu przyglądały się ukradkiem twarzom mężczyzn i kobiet i znowu rysowały palcami stóp równe linie w kurzu. Konie podeszły do koryt z wodą i zanurzyły w niej pyski, odgarniając szary nalot, który osiadł na powierzchni. Po chwili z twarzy zapatrzonych przed siebie mężczyzn znikł wyraz tępego osłupienia ustępując miejsca twardej, upartej zaciekłości. Teraz kobiety wiedziały, że są bezpieczne i że mężczyźni już się nie załamią. I wtedy spytały: "Cóż poczniemy?" Odpowiedź każdego z mężczyzn brzmiała "Nie wiem." Mimo to wszystko było już dobrze.

In human affairs of danger and delicacy successful conclusion is sharply limited by hurry.

Look out for luck. You can't trus' luck.

...but some men are friends with the whole world in their hearts, and there are others that hate themselves and spread their hatred around like butter on hot bread.

Jus' live the day. Don' worry yaself.

By the time Cyrus was released from the hospital and the army, his gonorrhea was dried up. When he got home to Connecticut there remained only enough of it for his wife.

I’ll be all around in the dark – I’ll be everywhere. Wherever you can look – wherever there’s a fight, so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever there’s a cop beatin’ up a guy, I’ll be there. I’ll be in the way guys yell when they’re mad. I’ll be in the way kids laugh when they’re hungry and they know supper’s ready, and when the people are eatin’ the stuff they raise and livin’ in the houses they build – I’ll be there, too.

People are only interested in themselves. If a story is not about the hearer he will not listen…a great and lasting story is about everyone or it will not last. The strange and foreign is not interesting—only the deeply personal and familiar.

But now I been thinkin' what he said, an' I can remember-all of it. Says one time he went out in the wilderness to find his own soul, an' he foun' he jus' got a little piece of a great big soul. Says a wilderness ain't no good, 'cause his little piece of a soul wasn't no good 'less it was with the rest, an' was whole.

There was a wall against learning. A man wanted his children to read, to figure, and that was enough. More might make them dissatisfied and flighty. And there were plenty of examples to prove that learning made a boy leave the farm to live in the city—to consider himself better than his father. Enough

In the wet hay of leaking barns babies were born to women who panted with pneumonia. And old people curled up in corners and died that way, so that the coroners could not straighten them. At night frantic men walked boldly to hen roosts and carried off the squawking chickens. If they were shot at, they did not run, but splashed sullenly away; and if they were hit, they sank tiredly in the mud.

smiled with amusement at the myths of these country boys.

I seen her beat the hell out of a tin peddler with a live chicken one time 'cause he give her a argument. She had the chicken in one han', an' the ax in the other, about to cut its head off. She aimed to go for that peddler with the ax, but she forgot which hand was which, an' she takes after him with the chicken. Couldn' even eat that chicken when she got done. They wasn't nothing but a pair a legs in her han'. Grampa throwed his hip outa joint laughin'. How'd my folks go so easy?