When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influences and genius, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror.
JOHN STEINBECKMany a trip continues long after movement in time and space have ceased.
More John Steinbeck Quotes
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Time is the only critic without ambition.
JOHN STEINBECK -
I shall revenge myself in the cruelest way you can imagine. I shall forget it.
JOHN STEINBECK -
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.
JOHN STEINBECK -
It’s a hard thing to leave any deeply routine life, even if you hate it.
JOHN STEINBECK -
Somewhere in the world there is a defeat for everyone. Some are destroyed by defeat, and some made small and mean by victory. Greatness lives in one who triumphs equally over defeat and victory.
JOHN STEINBECK -
I find out of long experience that I admire all nations and hate all governments
JOHN STEINBECK -
I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.
JOHN STEINBECK -
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
JOHN STEINBECK -
It’s almost impossible to read a fine thing without wanting to do a fine thing.
JOHN STEINBECK -
A sad soul can kill quicker than a germ.
JOHN STEINBECK -
I have come to believe that a great teacher is a great artist and that there are as few as there are any other great artists. Teaching might even be the greatest of the arts since the medium is the human mind and spirit.
JOHN STEINBECK -
American married life is the doormat to the whorehouse.
JOHN STEINBECK -
To finish is sadness to a writer — a little death. He puts the last word down and it is done. But it isn’t really done. The story goes on and leaves the writer behind, for no story is ever done.
JOHN STEINBECK -
I was born lost and take no pleasure in being found.
JOHN STEINBECK -
In utter loneliness a writer tries to explain the inexplicable.
JOHN STEINBECK