Authors:

A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z

John Steinbeck Quotes - Page 6

All Quotes Ambition Art Business Challenges Chaos Character Children Choices Confusion Country Criticism Design Desire Doubt Dying Earth Effort Evil Fate Fear Feelings Fighting Freedom Friendship Giving Gold Greatness Greed Guilt Hate Hatred Heart Heaven Hell Home Honesty Horror House Hunger Hurt Inspirational Journey Joy Kindness Laughter Life Literature Loneliness Loss Love Luck Lying Magic Mathematics Memories Morning Mountain Nature Obsession Pain Past Philosophy Pleasure Prayer Pride Quality Rain Reading Reality Responsibility Running Sadness Science Sickness Sin Singing Sleep Socialism Son Sorrow Soul Struggle Suffering Summer Teaching Travel Understanding Waiting Wall War Water Wife Winning Winter Worry Writing

The camera need not be a cold mechanical device. Like the pen, it is as good as the man who uses it. It can be the extension of mind and heart.

The camera need not be a cold mechanical device. Like the pen, it is as good as the man who uses it. It can be the extension of mind and heart.

Heart, Men, Mind

John Steinbeck (2003). “America and Americans and Selected Nonfiction”, p.180, Penguin

Intentions, good or bad, are not enough. There's luck or fate or something else that takes over.

Fate, Luck, Enough

John Steinbeck (2008). “The Winter of Our Discontent”, p.107, Penguin

Your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one person-a real person you know, or an imagined person and write to that one.

Real, Writing, Helping

Maybe the hardest thing in writing is simply to tell the truth about things as we see them.

Writing, Telling The Truth, Hardest

John Steinbeck (1990). “Journal of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters”, p.107, Penguin

It has always been my private conviction that any man who puts his intelligence up against a fish and loses had it coming.

Nature, Men, Fishing

"Biography/ Personal Quotes". www.imdb.com.

They's times when how you feel got to be kep' to yourself.

How You Feel, Feels

John Steinbeck (1996). “The grapes of wrath and other writings, 1936-1941”, Library of America

If there is a magic in story writing, and I am convinced that there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another. The formula seems to lie solely in the aching urge of the writer to convey something he feels important to the reader. If the writer has that urge, he may sometimes but by no means always find the way to do it.

Lying, Writing, Mean

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

Girl, Knowing, Feelings

My own journey started long before I left, and was over before I returned.

Journey, Long, My Own

John Steinbeck (1980). “Travels with Charley in Search of America”, p.209, Penguin

A book is like a man - clever and dull, brave and cowardly, beautiful and ugly.

Beautiful, Clever, Book

John Steinbeck (1989). “Steinbeck: A Life in Letters”, p.372, Penguin

How can you frighten a man whose hunger is not only in his own cramped stomach but in the wretched bellies of his children? You can't scare him--he has known a fear beyond every other.

Children, Men, Wrath

John Steinbeck (2016). “The Grapes of Wrath”, p.190, Hamilton Books

Some men are friends with the whole world in their hearts, and there are others that hate themselves and spread their hatred around like butter on hot bread.

Hate, Heart, Men

John Steinbeck (2002). “East of Eden”, p.126, Penguin

That man who is more then his elements knows the land that is more than its analysis.

Men, Wrath, Land

If we could learn even a little to like ourselves, maybe our cruelties and angers might melt away.

Anger, Littles, Might

"The Log from the Sea of Cortez".

In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

Anger, Wrath, Vintage

John Steinbeck (1990). “Working Days: The Journals of The Grapes of Wrath”, p.22, Penguin

..it's awful not to be loved. It's the worst thing in the world...It makes you mean, and violent, and cruel.

Mean, World, Awful

There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do.

Wrath, People, Stuff

John Steinbeck (2016). “The Grapes of Wrath”, p.19, Hamilton Books

He was born in fury and he lived in lightning. Tom came headlong into life. He was a giant in joy and enthusiasms. He didn't discover the world and its people, he created them. When he read his father's books, he was the first. He lived in a world shining and fresh and as uninspected as Eden on the sixth day. His mind plunged like a colt in a happy pasture, and when later the world put up fences, he plunged against the wire, and when the final stockade surrounded him, he plunged right through it and out. And as he was capable of giant joy, so did he harbor huge sorrow.

Father, Book, Eden

John Steinbeck (2002). “East of Eden”, p.38, Penguin

[Man] is the only animal who lives outside of himself, whose drive is in external things—property, houses, money, concepts of power. He lives in his cities and his factories, in his business and job and art. But having projected himself into these external complexities, he is them. His house, his automobile are a part of him and a large part of him. This is beautifully demonstrated by a thing doctors know—that when a man loses his possessions a very common result is sexual impotence.

Art, Jobs, Animal

John Steinbeck (1995). “The Log from the Sea of Cortez”, p.89, Penguin

A boy becomes a man when a man is needed

Boys, Men, Needed

This I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected.

Freedom, Fighting, Eden

John Steinbeck (2002). “East of Eden”, p.116, Penguin

The craft or art of writing is the clumsy attempt to find symbols for the wordlessness.

Art, Writing, Crafts

John Steinbeck (1990). “Journal of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters”, p.8, Penguin

Maybe we all have in us a secret pond where evil and ugly things germinate and grow strong. But this culture is fences, and the swimming brood climbs up only to fall back. Might it not be that in the dark pools of some men the evil grows strong enough to wriggle over the fence and swim free? Would not such a man be our monster, and are we not related to him in our own hidden water? It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them.

Strong, Fall, Angel

Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.

Morning, Golden, Bustle

John Steinbeck (1997). “Tortilla Flat”, p.34, Penguin

Father and son are natural enemies and each is happier and more secure in keeping it that way.

Father, Son, Enemy

John Steinbeck (2003). “America and Americans and Selected Nonfiction”, p.53, Penguin

You May Also Like: