East Of Eden

You can boast about anything if it’s all you have. Maybe the less you have, the more you are required to boast.

Our species is the only creative species, and it has only one creative instrument, the individual mind and spirit of a man. Nothing was ever created by two men. There are no good collaborations, whether in music, in art, in poetry, in mathematics, in philosophy. Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but th

And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual.

Samuel shivered. “It isn’t cold, is it?” Adam asked. “Cold? No. A goose walked over my grave, I guess.” “Oh, yes, I know that feeling.”

“Do you take pride in your hurt?” Samuel asked. “Does it make you seem large and tragic?” “I don’t know.” “Well, think about it. Maybe you’re playing a part on a great stage with only yourself as audience.”

“I don’t very much believe in blood,” said Samuel. “I think when a man finds good or bad in his children he is seeing only what he planted in them after they cleared the womb.” “You can’t make a race horse of a pig.” “No,” said Samuel, “but you can make a very fast pig.”

“How do you keep him from getting excited?” “It’s my own invention,” said Lee. “I call it conversational therapy.” “Must take all your time.” “It does,” said Lee.

“I’ll want to hear,” Samuel said. “I eat stories like grapes.”

But I would like to know what kind of blood is in my boys. When they grow up—won’t I be looking for something in them?” “Yes, you will. And I will warn you now that not their blood but your suspicion might build evil in them. They will be what you expect of them.”