“The dawn came, but no day. In the gray sky a red sun appeared, a dim red circle that gave a little light, like dusk; and as that day advanced, the dusk slipped back toward darkness, and the wind cried and whimpered over the fallen corn.”
“‘Well, it makes you mad to hear a guy use big words. ‘Course with a preacher it’s all right because nobody would fool around with a preacher anyway. But this guy was funny. You didn’t give a damn when he said a big word ’cause he just done it for ducks. He wasn’t puttin’ on no dog.’ The driver was reassured. He knew at least Joad was listening. He swung the great truck viciously around a bend and the tires shrilled. ‘Like I was sayin’,’ he continued, ‘guy that drives a truck does screwy things. He got to. He’d go nuts just settin’ here an’ the road sneakin’ under the wheels. ‘Fella says once that truck sinners eats all the time – all the time in hamburger joints along the road.’
‘Sure seems to live there,’ Joad agreed.
‘Sure they stop, but it ain’t to eat. They ain’t hardly ever hungry. They’re just sick of goin’–get sick of it. Joints is the only place you can pull up, an’ sling the bull with the broad behind the counter. So you get a cup of coffee and piece pie. Kind of gives a guy a little rest.’ He chewed his gum slowly and turned it with his tongue.”
“Casy took the bottle and regarded it broodingly. ‘I ain’t preachin’ no more much. The sperit ain’t in the people much no more; and worse’n that, the sperit ain’t in me no more. ‘Course now an’ again the sperit gets movin’ an I rip out a meetin’, or when folks sets out food I give ‘em grace, but my heart ain’t in it. I on’y do it ’cause they expect it.’”
“No, you’re wrong there–quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It’s the monster. Men made it, but they can’t control it.”