A man with a beard was always a little suspect anyway. You couldn't say you wore a beard because you liked a beard. People didn't like you for tellin… - John Steinbeck

"Our hosts had been kind to us and considerate as only Mexicans can be. Furthermore, they had taught us the best ways to go hunting, and we shall never use any other. We have, however, made one slight improvement on their method: we shall not take a gun, thereby ovbiating the last remote possibility of having the hunt cluttered up with game. We have never understood why men mount the heads of animals and hang them up to look down on their conquerors. Possibly it feels food to these men to be superior to animals, but it does seem that if they were sure of it they would not have to prove it. Often a man who is afraid must constantly demonstrate his courage and, in the case of the hunter, must keep a tangible record of his courage. for ourselves, we have mounted in a small hardwood plaque one perfect borrego dropping. And where another man can say "There was an animal, but because I am greater than he, he is dead and I am alive, and there is his head to prove it," we can say, "There was an animal, and for all we know there still is and here is the proof of it. he was very healthy when we last heard of him

Well, God knows he don't need any brains to buck barley bags. But don't you try to put nothing over, Milton. I got my eye on you.

I’ve tried to figure it out. When we were children we lived in a story that we made up. But when I grew up the story wasn’t enough. I had to have something else, because the story wasn’t true anymore. Aron didn’t grow up. Maybe he never will. He wanted the story and he wanted it to come out his way. He couldn’t stand to have it come out any other way. I don’t want to know how it comes out. I only want to be there while it’s going on. We were kind of strangers. We kept it going because we were used to it. But I didn’t believe the story anymore. When you’re a child you’re the center of everything. Everything happens for you. Other people? They’re only ghosts furnished for you to talk to. But when you grow up you take your place and you’re your own size and shape. Things go out of you to others and come in from other people. It’s worse, but it’s much better too. He couldn’t stand to know about his mother because that’s not how he wanted the story to go — and he wouldn’t have any other story. So he tore up the world.