I printed it once more on my eyes, south, west, and north, and then we hurried away from the permanent and changeless past where my mother is always shooting a wildcat and my father is always burning his name with his love.

-John Steinbeck

Select a background
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image

More quotes by John Steinbeck