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The Monday Morning Memo

“The girls in body-form slacks wander the High Street with locked hands

while small transistor radios sit on their shoulders and whine love songs
in their ears. The younger boys, bleeding with sap, sit on the stools
of Tanger’s Drugstore ingesting future pimples through straws.
They watch the girls with level goat-eyes and make disparaging
remarks to one another while their insides whimper with longing.”

– John Steinbeck

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“I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice. . . . We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them, on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it.”

- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

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