Quotes About Small-town

Traveling to swimming meets took me beyond my small-town existence, gave me a hint of the exciting world outside of my own home.

Peggy Lambert.

According to the local gossip," Gertie said, "Beulah was over the moon for this guy. She even mailed him a pair of her underwear." "If he was really a marine," Ida Belle said, "he could have used them as a parachute.

So remember those who win the game Lose the love they sought to gain In debitures of quality and dubious integrity Their small-town eyes will gape at you In dull surprise when payment due Exceeds accounts received at seventeen

I lived in a town of 400 until I was like nine or ten. My dad coached all the sports - he was a gym teacher and health teacher for grades K-12.

June, Nebraska

I would like to be the chronicler of something that I think is going down the drain very swiftly, and that is small-town, middle-class southern life.

On Decoration Day, while everyone else in town was at the cemetery decorating the graves of our Glorious War Dead, Willie Beaner and me, Robert Burns Hewitt, took Mabel Cramm's bloomers and run them up the flagpole in front of the town hall. That was the beginning of all my troubles.

Of course, there was also a computer store on Main Street, as well as two video stores and a satellite dish dealership, and just two miles away from the center of town was the very latest thing in movie multiplexes.

Most people in Kingsbridge could talk only about agriculture and adultery, neither of which interested her.

His name was Rambo, and he was just some nothing kid for all anybody knew, standing by the pump of a gas station at the outskirts of Madison, Kentucky.

You see more people walking now. With children, dogs. We always wave from our front porch and think if they just keep on walking that direction, pretty soon they'll find themselves out on the prairie. Think of that. An aerial view of all these kind, goodhearted, small-town people, kids in tow and dogs on leashes, walking across the prairie in a kind of trance, a kind of resignation.

The social world of Ibsen's plays is greatly restricted, enclosed in a narrow frame, cut off by the very geography of Norway; the long, dark winters make for social repetition…Everyone else you know is right there, so to speak. This small-town life has moral consequences always; the players live with the threat of trouble over the most petty matters.

Theirs was to be a relationship of shared defiance against small-town opprobrium, an all-embracing overprotective love.

I draw from my family and my friends and I feel like that small-town person. The achievements, the materialistic possessions have really become to mean less. They mean nothing.

It was really beautiful. The mayors of Glovertown and Gambo introduced me, and then I talked to the crowd. In fifteen minutes, we raised more than $700 in a town with less than 3,000 people. It was a fantastic feeling and a day I will never forget because I hope it is a start of things to come.

I'm a small-town kid from Winnsboro, La., who grew up not really being comfortable talking to people.

I think they were worried that you are a small-town doofus," Rita said, "rather than a high-powered urban hotshot…like, say, me." "Anything else?" "I'd say their combined intelligence is about that of a mud puddle." Jesse nodded.

What kind of a hick town is this, anyway?" she murmured. "A bank is held up and the sheriff is in church. What's he doing, praying that somebody will catch the robbers for him?

I get tired of hearing it's a crummy world and that people are no damned good. What kind of talk is that? I know a place in Payette, Idaho, where a cook and a waitress and a manager put everything they've got into laying a chicken-fried steak on you.

Ignore him, Heather begged. I do. Constantly. Jean-Luc studied the coach, then turned to Heather with a wary look. Every man in this town wants you. She laughed. Yea, right. The old guys from the nursing home go into cardiac arrest whenever I walk by. His gaze drifted over her. I can believe that.

She wears only black-rimmed glasses, and is holding a paperback titled Murder and Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction. Her light

People didn't just disappear without a trace. Not Willa Luce, and most certainly not boring old Alice Washburne, who had two girls at home, chickens to feed, and only ventured to town two days each week: to sell eggs and knitting at the farmers' market on Saturday mornings, and to go grocery shopping each Wednesday, when the Shop and Save had double-coupon day.

He eyed me with practiced suspicion. Great, a small town amateur detective – look out, Angela Lansbury.