John Ernst Steinbeck:
(Salinas (California), 27 February 1902 – New York, 20 December 1968).
American author who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1962. Over the course of his career, Steinbeck wrote twenty-seven books: sixteen novels, six non-fiction books and five collections of short stories.
But I do feel strange – almost unearthly. I’ll never get used to being alive. It’s a mystery. Always startled to find I’ve survived.
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?
In early June, the world of leaf and blade and flowers explodes, and every sunset is different.
In March the soft rains continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sunk beneath the ground.
If you’re in trouble, or hurt or need – go to the poor people. They’re the only ones that’ll help – the only ones.
All war is a symptom of man’s failure as a thinking animal.
