"I tol’ you an’ tol’ you," she said. "I tol’ you, ‘Min’ George because he’s such a nice fella an’ good to you.’ But you don’t never take no care. You do bad things."

“Jesus Christ, Lennie! You can’t remember nothing that happens, but you remember ever’ word I say.”

"... I coulda made somethin' of myself." She said darkly, "Maybe I will yet."

“If we could keep Curley in, we might. But Curley’s gonna want to shoot ’im. Curley’s still mad about his hand. An’ s’pose they lock him up an’ strap him down and put him in a cage. That ain’t no good, George.”

“I di’n’t forget, you bet, God damn. Hide in the brush an’ wait for George.”

“You’ll jus’ stick around an’ stew the b’Jesus outa George all the time.”

“I ought to of shot that dog myself, George. I shouldn’t ought to of let no stranger shoot my dog.”

“I ain’t wanted in the bunk house, and you ain’t wanted in my room.”

“S’pose George don’t come back no more. S’pose he took a powder and just ain’t coming back. What’ll you do then?”

“He reached in his side pocket and brought out Carlson’s Luger; he snapped off the safety, and the hand and gun lay on the ground behind Lennie’s back.”

“An’ live on the fatta the lan’.”

“There wasn’t another colored family for miles around. And now there ain’t a colored man on this ranch an’ there’s jus’ one family in Soledad.”