“But you can't start over, Only a baby can start over. You and me, Why, we're all that's been.”

“We'll start over. But you can't start. Only a baby can start”

“But you can't start. Only a baby can start. You and me - why, we're all that's been. The anger of a moment, the thousand pictures, that's us. This land, this red land, is us; and the flood years and the dust years and the drought years are us. We can't start again. The bitterness we sold to the junk man - he got it all right, but we have it still. And when the owner men told us to go, that's us; and when the tractor hit the house, that's us until we're dead. To California or any place - every one a drum major leading a parade of hurts, marching with our bitterness. And some day - the armies of bitterness will all be going the same way. And they'll all walk together, and there'll be a dead terror from it.”

“You don't seem to understand me,' she said. 'The last thing I want is to start over. You can't wake up something that's dead and buried.”

“You can't start over. There's no such thing as starting over. There's only history. And right now you're making tomorrow's history. So go out, and do something that will be fun to remember.”

“Why do I take this lonely road, nobody here to walk with me? So I start fresh all over again why won't you just comfort me?”