If I look upon my whole life, I cannot think of another time when I felt more comfortable: when I had no worries, fears, or desires, when my life seemed as soft and lovely as lying inside a cocoon of rose silk.

This is the hardest of all: to close the open hand out of love, and keep modest as a giver.

If they could offer up a way to go to the moon that wouldn&#39;t kill you, I&#39;d sign up.

The wedding was in Monterey, a sombre boding ceremony in a little Protestant chapel. The church had so often seen two ripe bodies die by the process of marriage that it seemed to celebrate a mystic double death with its ritual.

Written By John Steinbeck

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