Yet I pity the poor wretch, though he's my enemy. He's yoked to an evil delusion, but the same fate could be mine. I see clearly: we who live are all phantoms, fleeing shadows.

...there can be no justification for a society in which a man is expected to manufacture the weapons for his own murderers.

I discovered early that crying makes my nose red, and the knowledge has helped me through several painful episodes.

I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts.

Written By John Steinbeck

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