Of Mice and Men

by John Steinbeck

“I don’t know why I can’t keep it. It ain’t nobody’s mouse. I didn’t steal it. I found it lyin’ right beside the road.”

“Guys like us, that work on ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don’t belong no place. They come to a ranch an’ work up a stake and then they go inta town and blow their stake, and the first thing you know they’re poundin’ their tail on some other ranch. They ain’t got nothing to look ahead to.”

“You said I was your cousin, George.” “Well, that was a lie. An’ I’m damn glad it was. If I was a relative of yours I’d shoot myself.”

“For the rabbits,” Lennie shouted. “For the rabbits,” George repeated.

“No, Lennie. Look down there acrost the river, like you can almost see the place.”

“Go on, George. When we gonna do it?” “Gonna do it soon.” “Me an’ you.” “You . . . an’ me. Ever’body gonna be nice to you. Ain’t gonna be no more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from ’em.”

“Le’s do it now. Le’s get that place now.” “Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta.” And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie’s head. The hand shook violently, but his face set and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger. The crash of the shot rolled up the hills and rolled down again. Lennie jarred, and then settled slowly forward to the sand, and he lay without quivering.