Fait-divers by John Steinbeck on books

"It's almost impossible to read a fine thing without wanting to do a fine thing." John Steinbeck, The Pastures of Heaven

Fait-divers by John Steinbeck

“Knowing a man well never leads to hate and almost always leads to love.” (John Steinbeck)

Fait-divers by John Steinbeck

"I hate cameras. They are so much more sure than I am about everything." (John Steinbeck)

Black Marigolds quoted in Cannery Row of John Steinbeck

When the record had
finished, Doc wiped his hands and turned it off. He saw a book lying half
under his bed and picked it up and he sat down on the bed. For a moment he
read to himself but then his lips began to move and in a moment he read
aloud—slowly, pausing at the end of each line.
Even now
I mind the coming and talking of wise men from
towers
Where they had thought away their youth. And I,
listening,
Found not the salt of the whispers of my girl,
Murmur of confused colors, as we lay near sleep;
Little wise words and little witty words,
Wanton as water, honied with eagerness.
In the sink the high white foam cooled and ticked as the bubbles burst.
Under the piers it was very high tide and the waves splashed on rocks they
had not reached in a long time.
Even now
I mind that I loved cypress and roses, clear,
The great blue mountains and the small gray hills,
The sounding of the sea. Upon a day
I saw strange eyes and hands like butterflies;
For me at morning larks flew from the thyme
And children came to bathe in little streams.
Doc closed the book. He could hear the waves beat under the piles and he
could hear the scampering of white rats against the wire. He went into the
kitchen and felt the cooling water in the sink. He ran hot water into it. He
spoke aloud to the sink and the white rats, and to himself:
Even now,
I know that I have savored the hot taste of life
Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast.
Just for a small and a forgotten time
I have had full in my eyes from off my girl
The whitest pouring of eternal light—
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. And the white rats
scampered and scrambled in their cages. And behind the glass the
rattlesnakes lay still and stared into space with their dusty frowning eyes.

Fait-divers: a story with a meaning

"The friends nodded appreciatively, for they liked a story with a meaning." (John Steinbeck, "Tortilla Flat")

Easter

"It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone. The world is full of dark derelicts. The better way - the Marulli of that old Rome would have known it - there comes a time for decent, honorable retirement, not dramatic, not punishment of self or family - just good-by, a warm bath and an opened vein, a warm sea and a razor blade. The ground swell on the rising tide whished into the Place and raised my legs and hips and swung them to the side and carried my wet folded raincoat out with it. I rolled on one hip and reached in my side pocket for my razor blades and I felt the lump. Then in wonder I remembered the caressing, stroking hands of the light-bearer. For a moment it resisted coming out of my wet pocket. Then in my hand it gathered every bit of light there was and seemed red - dark red. A surge of wave pushed me against the very back of the Place. And the tempo of the sea speeded up. I had to fight the water to get out, and I had to get out. I rolled and scrambled and splashed chest deep in the surf and the brisking waves pushed me against the old sea wall. I had to get back - had to return the talisman to its new owner. Else another light might go out." - John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent"

Holy Saturday

"That Saturday morning seemed to have a pattern. I wonder whether all days have. It was a withdrawn day. The little gray whisper of my Aunt Deborah came to me, "Of course, Jesus is dead. This is the only day in the world's days when He is dead. And all men and women are dead too. Jesus is in Hell. But tomorrow. Just wait until tomorrow. Then you'll see something." - John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent"

Holy Friday - Good Friday has always troubled me

"Good Friday has always troubled me. Even as a child I was deep taken with sorrow, not at the agony of the crucifixion, but feeling the blighting loneliness of the Crucified. And I have never lost the sorrow, planted by Matthew, and read to me in the clipped, tight speech of my New England Great Aunt Deborah. Perhaps it was worse this year. We do take the story to ourselves and identify with it."

Holy Friday - Why do they call it Good Friday?

"Why do they call it Good Friday?" "It's from the Latin," said Joey. "Goodus, goodilius, goodum, meaning lousy." - John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent"

Holy Friday - I do love you

"She put her arms around him. "Let's be silly," she said. "Please don't say swear words on Good Friday. I do love you" - John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent"

Holy Friday - Do you remember?

"Did you wake up silly?" "The year's at the day. The day's at the morn." "I guess you did. Do you remember it's Good Friday?" He said hollowly, "The dirty Romans are forming up for Calvary." "Don't be sacrilegious. Will Marullo let you close the store at eleven?" - John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent"

Holy Thursday

“I didn’t always use Major Charley’s method, but on a day like this Thursday, when I knew my attention should be as uninterrupted as possible, I awakened when the day opened its door a crack and 1 visited my family as Major Charley had. I visited them in chronological order, bowed to Aunt Deborah. She was named for Deborah the Judge of Israel and I have read that a judge was a military leader. Perhaps she responded to her name. My great-aunt could have led armies. She did marshal the cohorts of thought. My joy in earning for no visible profit came from her. Stern though she was, she was charged with curiosity and had little use for anyone who was not. I gave her my obeisance.” - John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent"

Marcus Mumford - timshel live, 2017

“But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—‘Thou mayest’— that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.” ― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

The Radio Dept - annie laurie, 2002

"John Steinbeck wrote about this song (Maxwellton's brae are bonnie) in his novel "To a God Unknown" (chapter VIII)."

John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent" - Páscoa 6

John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent" - Páscoa 7

John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent" - Páscoa 5

John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent" - Páscoa 3

John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent" - Páscoa 4

John Steinbeck, "The Winter of Our Discontent" - Páscoa 1