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We work in our own darkness a great deal with little real knowledge of what we are doing. John Steinbeck, from “The Art of Fiction, No. 45,” The Paris Review (Fall 1969, No. 48)

(Source: theparisreview, via hellyesjohnsteinbeck)

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Most of the change we think we see in life
Is due to truths being in and out of favour.
As I sit here, and oftentimes, I wish
I could be monarch of a desert land
I could devote and dedicate forever
To the truths we keep coming back and back to.
So desert it would have to be, so walled
By mountain ranges half in summer snow,
No one would covet it or think it worth
The pains of conquering to force change on.
Scattered oases where men dwelt, but mostly
Sand dunes held loosely in tamarisk
Blown over and over themselves in idleness. Robert Frost, North of Boston (via greenturtleisland)
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