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Hier sind alle Passagen, die in meiner gebrauchten Ausgabe von The grapes of wrath angestrichen waren.

And now the squatting men stood up angrily. Grampa took up the land, and he had to kill the Indians and drive them away. And Pa was born here, and he killed weeds and snakes. Then a bad year came and he had to borrow a little money. An� we was born here. There in the door � our children born here. And Pa had to borrow money. The bank owned the land then, but we stayed and we got a little bit of what we raised.
We know that � all that. It�s not us, it�s the bank. A bank isn�t like a man. Or an owner with fifty thousand acres, he isn�t like a man either. That�s the monster.

And the driver said, �Can�t think of that. Got to think of my own kids. Three dollars a day, and it comes every day. Times are changing, mister, don�t you know? Can�t make a living off the land unless you�ve got two, five, ten thousand acres and a tractor.<�>�
The tenant pondered, �Funny thing how it is. If a man owns a little property, that property is him, it�s part of him and it�s like him. If he owns property only so he can walk on it and handle it and be sad when it isn�t doing well, and feel fine when the rain falls on it, that property is him and some way he�s bigger because he owns it. Even if he isn�t successful he�s big with his property. That is so.�

Muley fidgeted in embarrassment. �I ain�t got no choice in the matter.� He stopped at the ungracious sound of his words. �That ain�t like I mean it. That ain�t. I mean� � he stumbled � �what I mean, if a fella�s got somepin to eat an� another fella�s hungry � why, the first fella ain�t got no choice. I mean, s�poseI pick up my rabbits an� go off somewhere an� eat �em. See?�

Casy said quietly, �I gotta see them folks that�s gone out on the road.I got a feeling I got to see them. They gonna need held no preachin� can give �em. Hope of heaven when their lives ain�t lived? Holy Sperit when their own sperit is downcast an� sad? They gonna need help. They got to live before they can afford to die.�

�On�y kind of gover�ment we got that leans on us fellas is the �safe margin a profit�.�

Pa said, -�They�s change a-comin�. I don� know what. Maybe we won�t live to see her. But she�s a-comin�. They�s a res�less feelin�. Feller can�t figger nothin�out, he�s so nervous.�

Komisch, das hier zu finden. Aber auf seine spezielle, voellig un-postmoderne Weise auch sehr lieb und nett und anruehrend.

Mein spezielles assignment: Zeigen Sie anhand eines moeglichst langen Zitats, das Sie eigenhaendig hier einhacken, dass John Steinbeck trotzdem nicht Nikolai Ostrowski ist:

Along 66 the hamburger stands � Al & Susy�s Place � Carl�s Lunch � Joe & Minnie � Will�s Eats. Board-and bat shacks. Two gasoline pumps in front, a screen door, a long bar, stools, and a foot rail. Near the door three slot machines, showing through the glass the wealth in nickels three bars will bring. And beside them, the nickel phonograph with records piled up like pies, ready to swing out on the turntable and play dance music, �Ti-pi-ti-pi-tin,� �Thanks for the memory,� Bing Crosby, Benny Goodman. At one end of the counter a covered case; candy cough drops, caffeine sulphate called Sleepless, No-Doze; candy, cigarettes, razor blades, aspirin, Bromo-Seltzer, Alka-Seltzer. The walls decorated with posters, bathing girls, blondes with big breasts and slender hips and waxen faces, in white bathing suits and holding a bottle of Coca-Cola and smiling � see what you get with a Coca-Cola. Long bar, and salts, peppers, mustard pots, and paper napkins. Beer taps behind the counter, and in back the coffee urns, shiny and steaming with glass gauges showing the coffee level. And pies in wire cages and oranges in pyramids of four. And little piles of Post Toasties, corn flakes, stacked up in designs.
The signs on cards, picked out with shining mica: Pies Like Mother Used To Make. Credit Makes Enemies. Let�s Be Friends. Ladies May Smoke But Be Careful Where You Leave Your Butts. Eat Here And Keep Your Wife For A Pet. IITYWYBAD?
Down at one end the cooking plates, pot roast, roast beef, gray roast pork waiting to be sliced.
Minnie or Susy or Mae, middle-aging behind the counter, hair curled and rouge and powder on a sweating face. Taking orders in a soft low voice, calling them to the cook with a screech like a peacock.

IITYWYBAD??

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