Added: Antoni Duren - Date: 23.12.2021 08:55 - Views: 23395 - Clicks: 2096
in with Facebook in options. Goodre. Quotes tagged as "town" Showing of Old ones often have character, the new ones are interchangeable. In the little towns and villages there are no minorities; people are not numerous enough. You must see the world there, perforce. Every man is himself a class; every hour carries its new challenge. When you pass the inn at the end of the village you leave your favourite whimsy behind you; for you will meet no one who can share it. We listen to eloquent speaking, read books and write them, settle all the affairs of the universe.
The dumb village multitudes pass on unchanging; the feel of the spade in the hand is no different for all our talk: good seasons and bad follow each other as of old.
The dumb multitudes are no more concerned with us than is the old horse peering through the rusty gate of the village pound. The ancient map-makers wrote across unexplored regions, 'Here are lions. Now the giant city sucks the country dry, insatiably and incessantly demanding and devouring fresh streams of men, till it wearies and dies in the midst of an almost uninhabited waste of country.
Somewhere else, life has to be beautiful and vivid and rich. Not like this muted palette -a pale blue bedroom, washed out sunny sky, dull green yellow brown of the fields. Here, I know ever twist of every road, every blade of grass, every face in this town, and I am suffocating.
But there is no fire in your heart; you are not very concerned. Padlocks and deadbolts are all in vain. Why do you even bother with that chain? And you will see that the best locksmith in town is she. Or the worst. Because there's a part of me that likes that idea. Get out of town and never look back. Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown: Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out of town.
When they run out, they'll have to forage. Only the fools will forage in town. The smart ones will look on the outskirts. Wolfe, Hell on Ice. All the good that could be squeezed out of this forsaken place was used to make you. That's why you're so small, my friend: there just wasn't that much left. You see everybody, even that lumberjack.
Would you be all right, I felt like screaming, if you'd just watched your family taken away, watched your entire town taken away, to be murdered. I'll never be alright. It knew about the darkness that comes on the land when rotation meet and fuck happy town the land from the sun, and about the darkness of the human soul.
The town is an accumulation of three parts which, in sum, are greater than the sections. The town is the people who live there, the buildings which they have erected to den or do business in, and it is the land. The people are Scotch-English and French. There are others, of course - a smattering, like a fistful of pepper thrown in a pot of salt, but not many.
This melting point never melted very much. The buildings are nearly all constructed of honest wood. Many of the older houses are saltboxes and most of the stores are false-fronted, although no one could have said why. The people know there is nothing behind those false facades just as most of them know that Loretta Starcher wears falsies. The land is granite-bodied and covered with a thin, easily ruptured skin of topsoil. Farming it is a thankless, sweaty, miserable, crazy business. The meet and fuck happy town turns up great chunks of the granite underlayer and breaks on them.
In May you take out your truck as soon as the ground is dry enough to support it, and you and your boys fill it up with rocks perhaps a dozen times before harrowing and dump them in the great weed-choked pile where you have dumped them sincewhen you first took this tiger by the balls. And when you have picked them until the dirt won't come out from under your nails when you wash and your fingers feel huge and numb and oddly large-pored, you hitch your harow to your tractor and before you've broken two rows you bust one of the blades on a rock you missed.
And putting on a new blade, getting your oldest boy to hold up the meet and fuck happy town so you can get at it, the first mosquito of the new season buzzes bloodthirstily past your ear with that eye-watering hum that always makes you think it's the sound loonies must hear before they kill all their kids or close their eyes on the interstate and put the gas pedal to the floor or tighten their toe on the trigger of the.
The land has got you, locked up solid got you, and the house, and the woman you fell in love with when you started high school only she was a girl then, and you didn't know for shit about girls except you got one and hung on to her and she wrote your name all over her book covers and first you broke her in and then she broke you in and then neither one of you had to worry about that anymoreand the kids have got you, the kids that were started in the creaky double bed with the splintered headboard.
You and she made the kids after the darkness fell - six kids, or seven, or ten. The bank has you, and the car dealership, and the Sears store in Lewiston, and John Deere in Brunswick. But most of all the town has you because you know it the way you know the shape of your wife's breast. You know how the ground lies and you know how to get through the Marshes in April without getting the tops of your boots wet. You know it all. And they have certainly been talking about you," he assured her with a wink.
His eyes skimmed silent streets as he searched for the bed and breakfast. A half-grown fawn, grazing near the side of the road, lifted its head and hurried off to its mother. Next to the Piggly was the Dog-Gone Beer Hall, which offered roasted hot dogs, red-hot chili, and fried shrimp served in folded paper boats. No ladies or children stepped inside because it wasn't considered proper, but a take-out window had been cut out of the wall so they could order hot dogs and Nehi cola from the street.
Look at me now I'm on top. The houses were wooden, the exteriors faded to a uniform gray by the salt air. They were not, however, the least bit drab. Bright plants prospered, ivies snaking over the shingles so that the houses seemed less built as grown. The sole exception to this canopy was the church. Set at the foot of a mountain, its door was a staggering red, the stained-glass of the steeple pulsing decadently. When the sun hit it, I could believe the town had fallen under a spell that tithed its color to the church.
When Sunday night mass began, this window poured forth a kaleidoscopic radiance rivaling saintly visions. Did she want to get out of this town, or did she fight, cheat, and steal to get to be somewhere so unassuming?
Amber sunlight is everywhere, glowing off of the yellow brick buildings, reflecting from the windows, even hanging in the dust. Now in a big city, my neighbor one block down doesn't know who I am. Browse By Tag. Love Quotes Welcome back. Just a moment while we you in to your Goodre .Meet and fuck happy town
email: [email protected] - phone:(885) 522-7015 x 2071