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"I cant read ten pages of Steinbeck without throwing up. I couldnt read the proletarian crap that came out in the 30s; again you had sentimentalism — the poor oppressed workers."
"He wondered why he stayed with her. Just pure laziness, he guessed. He didnt want to go through the emotional turmoil of leaving her. In spite of himself hed worry about her and it was too much trouble. Hed need another woman right away and that took a lot of talking and arguing and persuading. It was different just to lay a girl but he would need a woman around, and that was the difference. You got used to one and it was less trouble.[…] But there was another reason too. She loved him. She really did. And he knew it. And you cant leave a thing like that. Its a structure and it has an architecture, and you cant leave it without tearing off a piece of yourself. So if you want to remain whole you stay no matter how much you may dislike staying. Juan was not a man who fooled himself very much."

John Ernst Steinbeck was an American writer and novelist. He won the 1962 Nobel Prize in Literature "for his realistic and imaginative writings, combining as they do sympathetic humor and keen social perception". He has been called "a giant of American letters".
"I cant read ten pages of Steinbeck without throwing up. I couldnt read the proletarian crap that came out in the 30s; again you had sentimentalism — the poor oppressed workers."
"Books aint no good. A guy needs somebody — to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he aint got nobody."
"Guy dont need no sense to be a nice fella. Seems to me sometimes it jus works the other way around. Take a real smart guy and he aint hardly ever a nice fella."
"His ear heard more than is said to him, and his slow speech had overtones not of thought, but of understanding beyond thought."
"Give a critic an inch, he’ll write a play."
"They come, an they quit an go on; an every damn one of ems got a little piece of land in his head. An never a God damn one of em ever gets it. Just like heaven. Everbody wants a little piece of lan. I read plenty of books out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land. Its just in their head."
"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."
"yes is a pleasant country... love is a deeper season than reason"
"true lovers in each happening of their hearts live longer than all which and every who"
"What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way."
"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flower Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!"
"Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at others Wanings shouldst thou fret? Then only mightst thou feel a just regret, Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light In selfish forethought of neglect and slight."