Well, every little boy thinks he invented sin. Virtue we think we learn, because we are told about it. But sin is our own designing.
John SteinbeckAbout author
- Author's profession: Author
- Nationality: american
- Born: February 27, 1902
- Died: December 20, 1968
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Her fine high forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like an armorial shield, burst into lovelocks and waves and curlicues of ash blonde and gold. Her eyes were bright, big, clear, wet and shining, the colour of her cheeks was real, breaking close to the surface from the strong young pump of her heart. Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood -- she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her.
F. Scott Fitzgerald