The human is the only guilty animal.

We gather our arms full of guilt as though it were precious stuff. It must be that we want it that way.

He never forgot anything but he never bothered to arrange his memories. -Hazel, Cannery Row

I know people who are so immersed in road maps that they never see the countryside they pass through, and others who, having traced a route, are held to it as though held by flanged wheels to rails.

Man, unlike anything organic or inorganic in the universe, grows beyond his work, walks up the stairs of his concepts, emerges ahead of his accomplishments.

I know a little bit about a great many things and not enough about any one to make a living in these times.

I guess there are never enough books.