Wacky sayings dating
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 reason you can't go home again is not because the down-home folks are mad at you--they're not, don't flatter yourself, they couldn't care less--but because once you're in orbit and you return to Reed's drugstore on the square, you can stand no more than fifteen minutes of the conversation before you head for the woods, head for the liquor store, or head back to Martha's Vineyard, where at least you can put a tolerable and saving distance between you and home.You work for 40 years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement.You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school.The day was twenty-four hours long, but it seemed longer.There's no hurry, for there's nowhere to go and nothing to buy..no money to buy it with.” ― “It's one thing to develop a nostalgia for home while you're boozing with Yankee writers in Martha's Vineyard or being chased by the bulls in Pamplona.And then you spend your last 9 months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila!
Witty one liners are jokes that are delivered in a single line.
Billboards - down farther an increasing clutter of them. A tottering barn in a waste field, the Mail Pouch ad half weathered away. A large wood - almost leafless now - the bare branches netting darkly against the sky. A peacetime draft got the town's attention.” ― “As usual, small towns like this were full of those who needed entertainment and whilst money was difficult to earn, the philosophy of giving the people what they wanted, which Franco lived by, had paid dividends.” ― “Fighting a Mardi-Gras-In-New-Orleans crowd for eight blocks from Trahan’s Tavern on St. These shoes probably cost more than your weekly paycheck." She'd never been so insulted.
Then down, where the road curved away, a big white farmhouse, trees on the lawn, neat fences - and above it all, way up, a television aerial, struck by the sun, shooting out bars of glare like neon. Peter to Bourbon O on Bourbon was like a man being willing to swim the Nile, climb Mount Everest, and cross the Sahara for true love.” ― “The courthouse clock struck nine and it was getting late and it was really night on this small street in a small town in a big state on a large continent on a planet earth hurtling down the pit of space toward nowhere or somewhere and Tom feeling every mile of the long drop.” ― “A derelict? "Ma'am, I'm not disputing that you're foolish enough to spend that much money on a pair of shoes.
Hot shit around here, they have a couple guys in every clique, and they stick together, 'cause they know they'll be seeing each other every week for the next sixty years.” ― “It was like hundreds of roads he'd driven over - no different - a stretch of tar, lusterless, scaley, humping toward the center.
On both sides were telephone poles, tilted this way and that, up a little, down... None of these catastrophes managed to shake the general feeling that war in Europe was not in Martin's business.
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.