Well, every little boy thinks he invented sin. Virtue we think we learn, because we are told about it. But sin is our own designing. John Steinbeck More Quotes by John Steinbeck More Quotes From John Steinbeck A fallow field is a sin. John Steinbeck hard-work fields action Sometimes a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man. John Steinbeck light mind men Some men ease themselves like setting hens into the nest of death. John Steinbeck nests ease men If he needs a million acres to make him feel rich, seems to me he needs it 'cause he feels awful poor inside hisself, and if he's poor in hisself, there ain't no million acres gonna make him feel rich, an' maybe he's disappointed that nothin' he can do 'll make him feel rich. John Steinbeck acres awful wrath ...no gift will ever buy back a man's love when you have removed his self-love. John Steinbeck self-love self men Not only do the brave get killed, but the brave have a better chance of it. John Steinbeck chance brave The clouds appeared and went away, and in a while they did not try anymore. John Steinbeck clouds trying Misfortune is a fact of nature acceptable to women, especially when it falls on other women. John Steinbeck acceptable facts fall Do you think it's funny to be so serious when I'm not even out of high school?' she asked. 'I don't see how it could be any other way,' said Lee. 'Laughter comes later, like wisdom teeth, and laughter at yourself comes last of all in a mad race with death, and sometimes it isn't in time. John Steinbeck laughter school thinking Thou mayest rule over sin,' Lee. That's it. I do not believe all men are destroyed. I can name you a dozen who were not, and they are the ones the world lives by. It is true of the spirit as it is true of battles — only the winners are remembered. John Steinbeck fire men believe The basic rule [of writing] given us was simple and heartbreaking. A story to be effective had to convey something from the writer to the reader, and the power of its offering was the measure of its excellence. Outside of that, there were no rules. John Steinbeck offering simple writing To a monster the norm must seem monstrous, since everyone is normal to himself. John Steinbeck normal seems monsters All we got is the family unbroke. John Steinbeck The misery stayed, not thought about but aching away, and sometimes I would have to ask myself, Why do I ache? Men can get used to anything, but it takes time. John Steinbeck misery sometimes men The cars of the migrant people crawled out of the side roads onto the great cross-country highway, and they took the migrant way to the West.... And because they were lonely and perplexed, because they had all come from a place of sadness and worry and defeat, and because they were all going to a mysterious new place, ... a strange thing happened: the twenty families became one family, the children were the children of all. The loss of home became one loss, and the golden time in the West was one dream. John Steinbeck lonely dream country You ain't worth a greased lack pin to ram you into hell. John Steinbeck rams pins hell There's an awful lot of inactive kindness which is nothing but laziness, not wanting any trouble, confusion, or effort. John Steinbeck effort confusion kindness And this you can know- fear the time when Manself will not suffer and die for a concept, for this one quality is man, distinctive in the universe. John Steinbeck wrath suffering men A water snake glided smoothly up the pool, twisting its periscope head from side to side; and it swam the length of the pool and came to the legs of a motionless heron that stood in the shadows. A silent head and beak lanced down and plucked it out by the head, and the beak swallowed the little snake while its tail waved frantically. John Steinbeck snakes shadow water The Hebrew word, the word timshel - 'Thou mayest' - that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open...Why, that makes a man great...He can choose his course and fight it through and win...I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed - because 'Thou mayest'. ch 24 John Steinbeck fighting unique winning
