I believe that theres is one story in the world, and only one… 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… there is no other story.
Catalog
John Steinbeck
John Ernst Steinbeck, Jr. (February 27, 1902 – December 20, 1968) was an American author of 27 books, including 16 novels, six non-fiction books, and two collections of short stories. He is widely known for the comic novels Tortilla Flat (1935) and Cannery Row (1945), the multi-generation epic East of Eden (1952), and the novellas Of Mice and Men (1937) and The Red Pony (1937). The Pulitzer Prize-winning The Grapes of Wrath (1939) is considered Steinbeck's masterpiece and part of the American literary canon. In the first 75 years after it was published, it sold 14 million copies. The winner of the 1962 Nobel Prize in Literature, he has been called "a giant of American letters". His works are widely read abroad and many of his works are considered classics of Western literature. Most of Steinbeck's work is set in southern and central California, particularly in the Salinas Valley and the California Coast Ranges region. His works frequently explored the themes of fate and injustice, especially as applied to downtrodden or everyman protagonists. 2Early life Steinbeck was born on February 27, 1902, in Salinas, Californi
I got you to look after me, and you got me to look after you, and that’s why.
Books ain't no good. A guy needs somebody — to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he ain't got nobody.
What the hell kind of bed you giving us, anyways. We don’t want no pants rabbits.
I seen too many guys with land in their head. They never get none under their hand.
They come, an' they quit an' go on; an' every damn one of 'em's got a little piece of land in his head. An' never a God damn one of 'em ever gets it. Just like heaven. Ever'body wants a little piece of lan'. I read plenty of books out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land. It's…
His ear heard more than is said to him, and his slow speech had overtones not of thought, but of understanding beyond thought.
We could live offa the fatta the lan’.
You watch your place, nigger. I could get you strung up on a tree so easy, it ain't even funny.
"Well, that glove's fulla vaseline." "Vaseline? What the hell for?" Well, I tell ya what — Curley says he's keepin' that hand soft for his wife."
You ain't worth a greased lack pin to ram you into hell.
I am a dog.
Well, God knows he don't need any brains to buck barley bags. But don't you try to put nothing over, Milton. I got my eye on you.
Maybe everybody in the whole damn world is scared of each other.
As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment.
When the virus of restlessness begins to take possession of a wayward man, and the road away from Here seems broad and straight and sweet, the victim must first find himself a good and sufficient reason for going.
Sectional football games have the glory and the despair of war, and when a Texas team takes the field against a foreign state, it is an army with banners.
When I was very young and the urge to be someplace was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight…
This monster of a land, this mightiest of nations, this spawn of the future, turns out to be the macrocosm of microcosm me.
He doesn't belong to a race clever enough to split the atom but not clever enough to live at peace with itself.