Quotes About Cowboy

More fun than a hungover, carbuncled cowboy might have while trying to stay aboard a longhorn, in a dusty rodeo, but it would be a close decision

Working for the Memphis Press-Scimitar, a cub reporter named Hardy Capley covered the trial from start to finish. His brother had been a POW during the war, and Hardy was intrigued by the presence of Clay Wampler, the Colorado cowboy who had served with Pete Banning in the Philippines

Clay Wampler was a cowboy from Colorado who joined the army in 1940. He was sent to the Philippines later that year as part of the Thirty-First Infantry. He surrendered on Bataan, survived the death march, and met Pete Banning in a POW camp. His life was saved when a Japanese guard sold him enough quinine to break his malaria. While being transported to a labor camp in Japan, he and Pete escaped.

Clara Swift is asleep, her head on the cowboy's saddle; the cowboy sleeps with his head in Clara's lap, his Stetson on his stomach.

LUCAS GOT HOME, changed into jeans, a wool vest over a white dress shirt, and an Italian cotton sport coat, blue-black in color that would be excellent, he thought, for nighttime shoot-outs. It hadn't yet been tested for that. When he got back downstairs, Flowers had come in, wearing a barn coat, jeans, and carrying a felt cowboy hat. His high-heeled cowboy boots made him an inch taller than Lucas. "There better not be a fuckin' horse in my driveway," Lucas said.

My father's a protector. My father's old-school. He's a cowboy.

He was a cowboy, mister, and he loved the land. He loved it so much he made a woman out of dirt and married her. But when he kissed her, she disintegrated. Later, at the funeral, when the preacher said, Dust to dust, some people laughed, and the cowboy shot them. At his hanging, he told the others, I'll be waiting for you in heaven--with a gun.

on his off nights he could forever be the shadowy, multifarious man who blew in and out on a dangerous breeze, sipping whisky before pollinating another dark place with his cowboy mysteriousness. In

Seriously? A cowboy hat? Was he trying to slay her? What was next? Cuddling puppies against his shirtless chest?

A cowboy, a lawyer, and a mechanic watched Queen of the Damned," I murmured. Warren—who had once, a long time ago, been a cowboy—snickered and wiggled his bare feet. "It could be the beginning of either a bad joke or a horror story." "No," said Kyle, the lawyer, whose head was propped up on my thigh. "If you want a horror story, you have to start out with a werewolf, his gorgeous lover, and a walker.

That, my dear uncultured wolf, is a Charlie Russell—cowboy turned artist. Without him, Montana's history would just be a footnote in a Zane Grey novel.