American - Author | February 27, 1902 - December 20, 1968
In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.
John Steinbeck
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Time is the only critic without ambition.
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We spend our time searching for security and hate it when we get it.
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No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself.
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Writers are a little below clowns and a little above trained seals.
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The discipline of the written word punishes both stupidity and dishonesty.
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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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These words dropped into my childish mind as if you should accidentally drop a ring into a deep well. I did not think of them much at the time, but there came a day in my life when the ring was fished up out of the well, good as new.
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I've lived in good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate.
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I have owed you this letter for a very long time-but my fingers have avoided the pencil as though it were an old and poisoned tool.
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So in our pride we ordered for breakfast an omelet, toast and coffee and what has just arrived is a tomato salad with onions, a dish of pickles, a big slice of watermelon and two bottles of cream soda.
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I hold that a writer who does not passionately believe in the perfectibility of man has no dedication nor any membership in literature.
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