Quotes About Cotton

Half the world does not know the joys of wearing cotton underwear. (promoting US exports, as quoted in Time)

all disgracers of the press in prose and verse condemned to eat nothing but their own cotton, and quench their thirst with their own ink.

In the 18th century, James Hargreaves invented the Spinning Jenny, and Richard Arkwright pioneered the water-propelled spinning frame which led to the mass production of cotton. This was truly revolutionary. The cotton manufacturers created a whole new class of people - the urban proletariat. The structure of society itself would never be the same.

far as slaveowners in the Deep South were concerned, these arrangements inaugurated a golden age, which lasted twenty-five years. The white and black population steadily increased, cotton and sugar production expanded, and the remaining southern Indians were either expelled or brought under the jurisdiction of state laws.

Migrants identified cotton growing with slave labor as if the relationship were natural.

Nonslaveholding free white men and women managed to grow corn and cotton on their farms in Alabama and Mississippi, as they did elsewhere in the South, generally for household consumption and local markets.181 (And after emancipation, cotton production in the southern United States would far surpass antebellum levels.)

I will not undertake to offer an opinion on the capacity of Hindustan to produce cotton. The region is large, and the soil and climate various, the population great and wages low; but I must be permitted to doubt the success of the experiment of driving us out of the market, though backed and patronized by English capital and energy.

This stuff is better than cotton candy, really it is. It's made out of real cotton. Yossarian, you've got to help me make the men eat it. Egyptian cotton is the finest cotton in the world.

A Florida planter defended his management practices by pointing to his slaves' "natural increase which in the last year has been over ten percent, in a gang of 120." A Georgia overseer informed his employer that with good management his plantation could produce much more cotton.

and after a Natchez slave fabricated an improved cotton gin based upon a description by his owner, who had seen Eli Whitney's invention, many planters

When I'm rhyming it's all in my head... Like the slaves, when they were picking cotton, they would block out their minds. They would sing.

I'm the son of a woman who grew up in Waycross, Georgia, picking cotton.

My perspective is hard because I look at wardrobe from very much a guy's perspective. You look at my closet and I have pairs of black jeans and five button-downs, but one's silk, one's cotton. They all are slightly different, so that's my perspective.

I pledged California to a Northern Republic and to a flag that should have no treacherous threads of cotton in its warp, and the audience came down in thunder.

I have a sensitive skin, so all products I use have aloe vera in them. I wash my face a lot and avoid touching it unnecessarily. I use makeup only when I have to. All products I use have natural ingredients. For me, cotton soaked in rose water and then kept in the freezer for a bit works as a great toner.

My steps were muffled. It was quiet, so quiet that I felt as if I did not walk but instead crawled in silence. The snow covered everthing and I walked above cotton, on silent carpets, on beach sand. Softness is temporary and deceiving. It gently receives you and gently expels you.

My dad was a cotton buyer and cotton buyers always considered themselves superior to the rest of the world.

I puffed at the cigarette. It was one of those things with filters in them. It tasted like a high fog strained through cotton wool.

His tall, lanky body had the wrinkles of sleep, and he smelled like cotton and dreams.

She saw night lights in the rooms of the babies who dreamed soft seersucker dreams, drugged happy with the heat, their pink baby bodies curled against worn out cotton, not fearing Hitler yet, their strong, tiny hearts beating in unison with the trees and the creeks and the bayou

But if they ever saw a sunrise on a mountain morning/Watched those cotton candy clouds roll by/They'd know why I live beneath these Western Skies.

Until 1943 I received no stipend. I was able to support myself as my mother was the daughter of a relatively wealthy cotton manufacturer.

Cotton was a force of nature. There's a poetry to it, hoeing and growing cotton.

But in Ward 9 the air had a real quality, it clamped itself over your face like a pad of cotton wool, soaked through with the sweet chloroform of utter sadness. - Ward 9