East of Eden

by John Steinbeck

When our food and clothing and housing all are born in the complication of mass production, mass method is bound to get into our thinking and to eliminate all other thinking.

oof

“Do you take pride in your hurt?” Samuel asked. “Does it make you seem large and tragic?”

It is one of the triumphs of the human that he can know a thing and still not believe it.

I feel—well, you might call it fulfilled. Maybe it’s only a good night’s sleep and a good trip to the bathroom.

And so we’re overbrave and overfearful—we’re kind and cruel as children. We’re overfriendly and at the same time frightened of strangers. We boast and are impressed. We’re oversentimental and realistic. We are mundane and materialistic—and do you know of any other nation that acts for ideals? We eat too much. We have no taste, no sense of proportion. We throw our energy about like waste.