There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
John Steinbeck in Steinbeck: A Life in Letters
Над червената и част от сивата земя на Оклахома тихо паднаха последните дъждове, без да могат да размекнат спеклата се на бразди пръст. Плугове запориха полята, покрити с мрежа от засъхнали вадички. Последните дъждове събудиха за бърз растеж царевичните кълнове и посяха буренаци и трева край пътищата, та сивата и тъмночервената земя почна да се губи под зеления килим. В края на май небето побледня и високите, кълбести облаци, които го покриваха цели два месеца, се разпръснаха. Слънцето ярко грееше ден след ден и по краищата на всеки зелен царевичен лист се образува кафява ивица. Облаци се появяваха за малко и изчезваха, а след известно време съвсем престанаха да се появяват. За да се запазят от слънцето, бурените станаха по-тъмнозелени и вече не се разпростираха върху нова площ. На повърхността на земята се образува корица - тънка, спечена - и колкото повече побледняваше небето, толкова повече побледняваше и земята: червената ставаше розова, а сивата - бяла."
"Гроздовете на гнева
It is not good to want a thing too much. It sometimes drives the luck away. You must want it just enough, and you must be very tactful with Gods or the gods.
John SteinbeckMaybe you'll come to know that every man in every generation is refired. Does a craftsman, even in his old age, lose his hunger to make a perfect cup--thin, strong, translucent?" He held his cup to the light. " All impurities burned out and ready for a glorious flux, and for that-- more fire. And then either the slag heap or, perhaps what no one in the world ever quite gives up, perfection." He drained his cup and he said loudly, "Cal, listen to me. Can you think that whatever made us-- would stop trying?
John SteinbeckAnybody can break down. It takes a [real] man not to.
John SteinbeckWhenever they's a fight so hungry hungry people can eat, I'll be there. Wherever they's a cop beating up a guy, I'll be there.
John SteinbeckTiny emerged on deck some hours later, shaken but smiling. He said that what he had been considering love had turned out to be simple flatulence. He said he wished all his romantic problems could be solved as easily.
John SteinbeckTag: love
Once Ed said to me, "For a very long time I didn't like myself." It was not said in self-pity but simply as an unfortunate fact. "It was a very difficult time," he said, "and very painful. I did not like myself for a number of reasons, some of them valid and some of them pure fancy. I would hate to have to go back to that. Then gradually," he said, "I discovered with surprise and pleasure that a number of people did like me. And I thought, if they can like me, why cannot I like myself? Just thinking it did not do it, but slowly I learned to like myself and then it was all right." This was not said in self-love in its bad connotation but in self-knowledge. He meant literally that he had learned to accept and like the person "Ed" as he liked other people. It gave him a great advantage. Most people do not like themselves at all. They distrust themselves, put on masks and pomposities. They quarrel and boast and pretend and are jealous because they do not like themselves. But mostly they do not even know themselves well enough to form a true liking. They cannot see themselves well enough to form a true liking, and since we automatically fear and dislike strangers, we fear and dislike our stranger-selves.
John SteinbeckTag: self-esteem
Und keine Frau lässt sich gern vom Mittelpunkt der Bühne verdrängen, schon gar nicht durch einen Tintenfisch.
John SteinbeckTag: tintenfisch
Perhaps we have overrated roots as a psychic need. Maybe the greater the urge, the deeper and more ancient is the need, the will, the hunger to be somewhere else.
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