He wasn't involved with a race that could build a thing it had to escape from.
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Quotes by John Steinbeck
in Quotes & Aphorisms (Life)
This monster of a land, this mightiest of nations, this spawn of the future, turns out to be the macrocosm of microcosm me.
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Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts, perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
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The techniques of opening conversation are universal. I knew long ago and rediscovered that the best way to attract attention, help, and conversation is to be lost. A man who seeing his mother starving to death on a path kicks her in the stomach to clear the way, will cheerfully devote several hours of his time giving wrong directions to a total stranger who claims to be lost.
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We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say, and to feel —, "yes, that's the way it is, or at least that's the way I feel it. You're not as alone as you thought."
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Life)
It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world.
from the book "" by John Steinbeck
in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
Sometimes a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man. It happens to nearly everyone. You can feel it growing or preparing like a fuse burning toward dynamite. It is a feeling in the stomach, a delight of the nerves, of the forearms. The skin tastes the air, and every deep-drawn breath is sweet. Its beginning has the pleasure of a great stretching yawn; it flashes in the brain and the whole world glows outside your eyes.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Wisdom)
A question is a trap, and an answer your foot in it.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Hope)
A little hope, even hopeless hope, never hurt anybody.
from the book "Sweet Thursday" by John Steinbeck