Best 193 quotes in «texas quotes» category

Families start out, most of the time, with unconditional acceptance of one another. That acceptance starts in childhood and continues into adulthood. Somewhere in there, between childhood and adulthood, the ability to distinguish right versus wrong is born.

Dr. Tom had said that Texas was the only place he had ever found that, when it killed you, it didn't forget about you.

East Texas is red dirt – not red, in sober truth, but the orange of rust, which it basically is, ferrous oxide – and magnolias and azaleas and dogwoods, old fields long since cottoned-out, far from the Mississippi River bottomlands that were ‘rich as six feet up a bull’s ass’: a land of hogs and hominy, and a tangled, grim past of slavery and segregation. It could as easily be the country as far eastwards of the Mississippi as it is west: it would fit all too readily into the area between Brandon and Meridian, Mississippi, hard by the Bienville National Forest.

He was the deadliest man in Texas, on that they all agreed.

He built his career on his mysterious Hispanic grandmother Dolorosa, who was born on the border of Mexico at a time when nobody could tell if it was part of Texas or Fort Apache.

How erotic Texas must be!” she said. I was sure she had meant “exotic,” but I followed through: “Maybe, if you find cactus and deserts erotic, sensual.

I feel like I've been ironing all day in high heels and no brassiere. ~Tizzy Donovan, Laid Out and Candle Lit

I'd learned how to handle a gun before I was fully potty trained.

I'd prefer to die in Texas when I'm old. They say most good things end the same way they started, and that's where I entered the world, so that's how I'll leave it.

I am forced to conclude that God made Texas on his day off, for pure entertainment, just to prove that all that diversity could be crammed into one section of earth by a really top hand.

I bought the wrong face soap. Why? Because it says smooth face cleanser on it. I put it on my face and I'm fairly certain it's lotion. I also bought something that says "Body soufflé." What is that? Is it a lotion? Is it shower gel? Am I supposed to eat it?

If 'quaint' was a piano's Middle C, Marfa was a B-flat; it was peacefully strange.

I got used to birds: small black birds flying up from behind a building like God had tossed up a handful of currants, birds squalling in the parking lot of the grocery store (drowning the hum of industrial refrigerators), chachalacas -brown robed nuns to the spangled disco dancer peacocks - cackling in the dust of our yard. I got used to the chatters, squeaks, squalls, peeps, calls that sounded like bitter laughter, whistles, flutes, calls that sounded like souls ascending to heaven. I got used to dust and flatness, to sunsets like pink water pouring from the sky, flooding the earth with orange soda. I got used to wind: the hot, cruel wind of afternoon, the merciful magnolia breeze of night. I got used to it. But then I had to go.

If the elder Smith brothers’ faction had any luck, it would be a rip-roaring dust storm of a war such as Garlick had never seen since the days of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Circus.

If you're not creating, you're disintegrating.

I love what Jacksonville taught me and where it led me. The good, the bad and the indifferent all helped shape me. I may not live there anymore but it lives inside me. It is and will always be my foundation.

I hated seeing these spasmodic upside-down chicken heads stretching to puncture my flesh. I imagined once that they reached my groin and pecked out my penis and my huevos and kept pecking until they got to my gut and my eyes and my brain, until I was just a pecked-out piece of human meat surrounded by thousands of nervous, dirty white chickens. I think that was about the time I fucked up a pair of chicken heads against a warehouse wall when no one was looking. Well, almost no one. Rueben was right behind me, and that's when he grinned his stupid grin. Maybe he hated the chickens as much as I did. Maybe he just knew que ya me iba también a la chingada. Maybe I was going on my first joy ride to hell and back, and it was fun to watch.

I like Texas and Texans. In Texas, everything is bigger. When Texans win, they win big. And when they lose, it's spectacular. If you really want to learn the attitude of how to handle risk, losing and failure, go to San Antonio and visit the Alamo. The Alamo is a great story of brave people who chose to fight, knowing there was no hope of success against overwhelming odds. They chose to die instead of surrendering. It's an inspiring story worthy of study; nonetheless, it's still a tragic military defeat. They got their butts kicked. A failure if you will. They lost. So how do Texans handle failure? They still shout, "Remember the Alamo!" That's why I like Texans so much. They took a great failure and turned it into a tourist destination that makes them millions. Texans don't bury their failures. They get inspired by them. They take their failures and turn them into rallying cries. Failure inspires Texans to become winners. But that formula is not just the formula for Texans. It is formula for all winners.

Immy knocked on his open door. "Mr. Mallett?" The look on his narrow face was pained. "What's with the Mr. Mallett? When you don't call me Mike, it's usually trouble.

I’m a Texas girl, with a California soul.

I’m at peak physical condition now. People sometimes assume I was in the army. I think I’m too insubordinate for that line of work. There’s enough to do around here. I read somewhere that you could still fit the entire world’s population into Texas. Imagine that.

Imogene Duckworthy did not like pigs. She was fairly fond of cattle, having grown up surrounded by them. She hadn't been around pigs much. In fact, this was the first time she'd ever driven toward a pig farm.

I’m never touching her again,” Austin swore. “You’ll touch her,” his brothers said in unison.

In Austin, we don't have such high expectations of chihuahuas.

It's fun telling you tall Texas tales. You always look like a little girl who's hearing Cinderella for the first time.

In keeping with the Laws of the Prophet Bubba and the Code of the UIL, as set forth in the Book of First Downs, as the sun sets on Friday nights the rites of the Texas state religion are celebrated: high school, smash-mouth football. ‘And lo, the children of Jim Bob do take to the roads in caravans and they do go up unto the stadium by tribes, the Indians of Groveton, the Panthers of Lufkin, the Mustangs of Overton, and the very Wildcats of Palestine, and who shall withstand the traffic jams thereof?’ Thus is it written, and so it is and shall be.

I realize we could physically fit everybody there (Texas)... that doesn't mean they could all be fed, and clothed, and given iPhones

I should move away from his touch. But he’s a constant storm in my life, clouding my head, ensuring I make bad decisions. He doesn’t do it on purpose, he knows we’re not good for each other, but there’s something about us that makes us fight back harder, thinking we can overcome it.

Isn't the human body a miracle

It's hard to imagine, seeing how crowded the sky looks tonight, how far away one star is from another. Like, people, really. We can appear to be standing right next to each other, and yet in our minds, we can be thousands of miles away, lost to the outer reaches. But we're all together in the same black soup, which makes us all related somehow.

...makes me want to go to leave the United States and go to a more sensible place, like Texas.

Love is not a word or an idea or even a place to go to or a thing to strive for. It is not something to grasp and smother and mold and change. It cannot be orchestrated, played, controlled or manipulated. You can not cup it tenderly in your open hand or wish it into being through fervent prayer.

Love is not governed by numbers

I've always thought hard-boiled detective novels an American art form. At their best, they're more than who-dun-its or thrillers, they're vehicles for a writer's observations about culture, politics, philosophy, music, history and a time or a place. Or life, it’s ownself. When you read James Ellroy, Dashiell Hammett or James Lee Burke, their stories are always about far more than good guys chasing bad guys. That’s the kind of book I wanted to write. Still do.

No matter where you go in East Texas, ‘Deep’ East Texas is always about twenty miles further in than wherever you are.

Next time I tell you someone from Texas should not be president of the United States, please pay attention." [Shrub Flubs His Dub, The Nation, June 18, 2001]

One hand went around her shoulders and the other one tipped her chin up. For several seconds he lost himself in her blue eyes and then his lips found hers in a lingering kiss and both her arms went instinctively around his neck. “I’ve wanted to do that all morning,” he said. “I’ve wanted you to do that all morning,” she whispered. “I guess we don’t need to talk about this thing anymore now.” “I’m ready to do lots of things, Annie Rose. Talk is not anywhere on the list.

Nothing more fun than something that starts out 'Based on a True Story.

She'd been hired to protect him. But he'd come to a place where he'd do anything, give anything, risk anything to protect her.

Probabilmente no, quindi ti lascio con un piccolo consiglio, dato che conosci tanto bene le carte. La vita è come loro. Vincere non consiste nell’avere una buona mano, ma nel giocarne bene una mediocre.

Some ties were hard to break, harder to severe, devastating to forget.

Spend less time on social media and more time reading and writing.

Sometimes, I wondered if I might speed up his words by grabbing his wrists and finishing his gestures for him.

So much of how we see the world is the matter of interpretation. A matter of wishing and hoping rather than really deep-down believing.

Texas…was evidently the only place in the known universe, including Louisiana, that actually got hotter after the sun went down.

That's it, Uncle Huey!" Imogene Duckworthy whipped off her apron and flung it onto the slick, stainless steel counter. "I quit!" If only her voice didn’t sound so young.

The woman stared at the ruined body. Blood dripped from her arm. A fine spray of red covered her face --must've been cast off when she slammed down the cans. She wiped her face with her left forearm and kicked the stalker's corpse with her sneakered foot. "Don't mess with Texas.

Thats what happens to Snow in Texas, lady. It freaking MELTS!!" Leo Valdez- The Lost Hero

The enemy has demanded a surrender at discretion otherwise the garrison are to be put to the sword if the fort is taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon shot, and our flag still waves proudly from the walls. I shall never surrender nor retreat.

Und alles hatte den leichten Schimmelduft, den Bücher im mittleren Texas haben. Zuviel Feuchtigkeit. Zuviel Wärme. Ein Land, das niemals imstande sein wird, Bücher längere Zeit aufzubewahren. Bücher halten sich hier nicht. Sie schimmeln. (Die Sache mit dem Hund)