Quotes about western

It is not an unusual life curve for Westerners - to live i n and be shaped by the bigness, sparseness, space clarity & hopefulness of the West, to go away for study and enlargement and the perspective that distance and dissatisfaction can give, and then to return to what pleases the sight and enlists the loyalty and demands the commitment.

It was one of those dreams from which she woke up depressed about her reality, filled with a longing that pulled at her insides, wishing the dream could have lasted forever, or at least much longer than it had.

SUN, MOON, AND STARRY SKYEarly summer evenings, when the first stars come out, the warm glow of sunset still stains the rim of the western sky.Sometimes, the moon is also visible, a pale white slice, while the sun tarries.Just think -- all the celestial lights are present at the same time!These are moments of wonder -- see them and remember.

And in the silence what followed, I reckon our eyes had some long conversation our mouths could’ve never talked through. Some long, looking talk about things gone and long since said. About cries out in the night and some long ago tangling of limbs. And about them betrayals done time and time again—by both of us—what led to me pointing the Green Man’s rifle at the man what once loved me under the Green Man’s stars.

Maybe I’d lost something. Maybe I’d lost a lot—more, even, than I could suffer—but I still had my own self. And lonesome as I might be, wasn’t no force on Earth or from above what could make me less.

But wasn’t time for what was. Was time to settle up the future.

Many lessons can be learned from the history of Western civilization, but one of them is especially clear. Lack of involvement in the affairs of one's society can lead to a sense of powerlessness. In an age that is often crisis-laden and chaotic, an understanding of our Western heritage and its lessons can be instrumental in helping us create new models for the future. For we are all creators of history, and the future of Western and indeed world civilization depends on us.

They began to come upon chains and packsaddles, singletrees, dead mules, wagons. Saddletrees eaten bare of their rawhide coverings and weathered white as bone, a light chamfering of miceteeth along the edges of the wood. They rode through a region where iron will not rust nor tin tarnish. The ribbed frames of dead cattle under their patches of dried hide lay like the ruins of primitive boats upturned upon that shoreless void and they passed lurid and austere the black and desiccated shapes of ho

This ferry was taken over by the Yumas and operated for them by a man named Callaghan, but within days it was burned and Callaghan's headless body floated anonymously downriver, a vulture standing between the shoulderblades in clerical black, silent rider to the sea.

A few of the gunslingers dance, but only a few. And they were the young ones. The other ones only sat, and it seemed to me they were half embarrassed in all that light, that civilized light.

But tell you true, I honestly didn’t think nothing about the Green Man beefing that posse. Was just men and the world’s full of them.

Seems a lot of men never saw one such as me. A girl what could keep up and fight and ride and curse with the best of them. A girl what ain’t trapped in some dress or some house or some bed. A girl what ain’t waiting on some man to do what she ought to her own damn self.

That kiss was amazing. Our lips were meant to meet and do wicked things to each other.

Despite everything, every piece of Alaska sang to me. I remembered every curve in the trails, every tree in the forest. It was familiar to me, comfortable. The more I thought about leaving it, the less I liked the idea. This was my home.

I didn't care, because I loved him, and that was the end of every argument and the beginning of every promise.

Hank Knight asked questions about Jesse Rose and an item that was taken from her crib the night she was kidnapped. His questions led our lawyer to believe Hank had knowledge about the crime and possibly where Jesse Rose is now. I think he got too close to the truth. Too close to the kidnapper's accomplice. And if I'm right then you can help me prove it.

He noticed her eyes were a rich, warm brown, the same color as his favorite horse."Yes?"He realized he'd been staring. At least he had the sense not to voice his thoughts. He doubted she would appreciate her eye color being compared to that of his horse's hide even if it was his favorite.

Her gaze locked with his and she felt her heart quicken. Slowly, he bent his head until his lips were only a breath away from her own. She couldn't breathe. Didn't dare. She thought she would die if he didn't kiss her.

His lips brushed over hers. She let out a sigh of relief and joy and pleasure. He pulled her tighter against him, taking her mouth with his own. She melted into him and the kiss, heart pounding, desire sparking along her nerve endings like a string of lit dynamite.

Seth shrugged. "He's already had his funeral pyre" He glanced towards "I reckon the Devil himself was there to welcome Daniel home. " He shuddered, "Course he may prove to be too mean for the devil himself.

The past is just that.

Where are you taking me?” Abby asked from the passenger seat of the pickup.

My love for you won't stop with my leaving. Come an evening over the years, when you step outside your door and hear the wind blowing through the cottonwoods, that'll be me, thinking of you, whispering your name, and loving you.

But I don't know how to fight. All I know how to do is stay alive.

It is brutal. Only I never could see the sense in having folks look at your tombstone and say, 'He was a man who didn't believe in violence, He's a good man... and dead.

Why is it a man can never seem to buckle down and train himself to indolence and stupidity when he can see what sanctuary they offer from toil and pain?

Yong is the outer manifestation of something. Ti is the underlying essence. Technology is a yong associated with a particular ti that is ... Western, and completely alien to us [the Chinese]. For centuries, since the time of the Opium Wars, we have struggled to absorb the yong of technology without importing the Western ti. But it has been impossible. Just as our ancestors could not open our ports to the West without accepting the poison of opium, we could not open our lives to Western technolog

These two developments throw light on what is perhaps the most fundamental difference between the Renaissance and all previous periods of art. We have repeatedly seen that there were these circumstances which could compel the artist to make a distinction between the "technical" proportions and the "objective;" the influence of organic movement, the influence of perspective foreshortening, and the regard for the visual impression of the beholder. These three factors of variation have one thing in

I confess [Election] is a hard doctrine, running contrary to our earthly ideas of fair play, but I can see no way around it. Read I Corinthians 6:13 and II Timothy 1:9,10. Also I Peter 1:2,19,20 and Romans 11:7. There you have it. It was good for Paul and Silas and it is good enough for me. It is good enough for you too.

In the moral realm, there is very little consensus left in Western countries over the proper basis of moral behavior. And because of the power of the media, for millions of men and women the only venue where moral questions are discussed and weighed is the talk show, where more often than not the primary aim is to entertain, even shock, not to think. When Geraldo and Oprah become the arbiters of public morality, when the opinion of the latest media personality is sought on everything from aborti

It's the easiest thing in the world to get to California-you just aim yourself west and start walking.

Reese sucked in a breath and played faster, hurling the anger through his fingers until it spun all hisfear, all his rage, into the gentle voice of music.

Annie Taliaferro had that hammerhead look about her, like a breachy range cow, or a bunch-quitting steer.

The back barn door opened, and in walked a vision in a billowing green dress. As she led in her mare, Mr. McBride’s voice faded away as Tom’s total attention turned to the girl. About twenty-one or two, Tom guessed. Not too tall, nor short. Beautiful heart-shaped face decorated with rosy cheeks and light freckles. Long auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. Perfectly set green eyes. Full-bosomed and hourglass shaped. Breathtaking.

Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.

I appreciate your thinking on me, marshal, but ain’t no trouble of his what ain’t trouble of mine, too.

The exaltation of human reason and its capabilities, a commitment to rigorous and rational debate, a promotion of intellectual inquiry and scholarly exchange--all sponsored by the Church--provided the framework for the Scientific Revolution.

In western societies many people become sick in their thirties, develop serious medical conditions in their forties and are disabled in their fifties.

For many people, a western lifestyle equates to living in a toxic home, working a toxic job, eating toxic food, being sick from your thirties onward and eventually dying from preventable disease.

Now, if you don’t know ‘Bonnie Blue Flag’, then ‘Dixie’ will do nicely…” Tom began, cocking the pistol. Jesse stared, mouth agape at the carnage in the room. “NOW PLAY!” Tom exploded.

I’d prefer ‘Bonnie Blue Flag’, if you take requests…” Tom had turned and rested his elbows on the bar. His hand was inches from the Colt. These were the men he was looking for.

I think the best way I can put it,” Tom summarized, “was what I was once told that a Confederate prisoner said to his Union captor. The Yank said: ‘Why do you fight us so hard, Reb?’, and his prisoner replied: ‘Because you are here, Yank’.

In the West, people learn through the Socratic tradition. The education system was influenced by Western philosophy and is based on constantly questioning the knowledge that’s handed to you and arriving at the truth through that process of questioning. The Indian system took off from the Guru-Shishyha tradition in which your virtue as a student lay in taking tradition or parampara as it is given to you and passing it on to the next generation in the exact same way.

The silence was worse than the gunshots. The wait worse than the confusion. The forebode worsethan any danger.

He traced her arched eyebrow. “Every morning when I wake up with you at my side, you’re more beautiful than yesterday.

Every dog has its day. Some even bite.

States are far less violent than traditional bands and tribes. Modern Western countries, even in their most war-torn centuries, suffered no more than around a quarter of the average death rate of nonstate societies, and less than a tenth of that for the most violent one.

Gentle With Them Thar Spurs'—a sequel to 'Riders of the Purple Sau-Sage.' Spurs was the feminist novel of its day…which was Tuesday." —Bats 2015

There is, perhaps, no class of men on the face of the earth, says Captain Bonneville, who lead a life of more continued exertion, peril, and excitement, and who are more enamored of their occupations, than the free trappers of the West. No tail, no danger, no privation can turn the trapper from his pursuit. His passionate excitement at times resembles mania. In vain may the most vigilant and cruel savages best his path, in vain may rocks and precipices and wintry torrents oppose his progress, le

He loves deep... hates hard, ever'thing's that killed what he loves. All great warriors are sich men.

I felt a hole boring through my heart. It was carving a scar that would never heal. I was a man. A man doesn't cry at lost love. Never. Instead, he turns hard. From now on, I would live up to my name"...Rattler.

I tell you, mister, if there’s anything good about being a hot-tempered bitch, it’s knowing right well what buttons to push in others seeing as they’re the same ones what get your own back up.

The new enlightened self-understanding reminds us that there is no final destination to our journey. The process itself is the destination. There is nowhere we need to arrive to.

We’re not a people worth saving, plain and simple. We’re completely beyond that—both the undead and the few still living. Yeah, 'living.' Some life, huh? But it’s the only life we could ever possibly live if we want to stay alive another day. It’s our life that terrifies me.

I am what I am... but for the first time in my life, I'm sorry for it.

he had offered some of his own background. A youth in the South. An education in the North. Bred for life in the East. Trying not to die in the West.

Ain’t nothing scarier than someone with nothing.

You know, you really don't have to kill anyone over this. I'll get an annulment. It will be like never happened"His eyes came to her, briefly meeting her gaze before dropping to her mouth. "You'll have to make that a divorce instead""No you don't understand. An annulment will be much easier to obtain"His gaze locked with hers now. Cassie became slightly breathless with the intensity of his stare."Not after tonight, it won't." He said in his mesmerizing drawl."Why?" She barely got the word out."B

Jack glanced toward the dressing room, not believing that all the time he had been with her, she had been half-naked...

No soldier outlives a thousand chances. But every soldier believes in Chance and trusts his luck.

There is no better place to heal a broken heart than on the back of a horse.

When I envied a man's spurs then they were indeed worth coveting.

You’re a real cowboy.”He laughed. “You’re just now realizing that?

The bigness of the West makes men quiet they seldom talk unless they have something to say.

Life don't care 'bout sorry's," Will says. "Bad things happen, and you can't let 'em harden you. Whatever happened to yer pa, it ain't yer fault, Nate, and you gotta let it go.

She looked up and their eyes locked. “Want to be my birthday present?” she asked in a breathy whisper.Chase’s mother didn’t raise any fools. He released her hips and trailed his hand down her arm until their fingers entwined.“Let’s get out of here.”He tugged her from the dance floor, trying not to rush like he was running from a fire. But, damn. There was a fire in his britches.

The terrible price of living, ain’t it? To live through others dying?

not knowing what I needed to do or where I needed to go, I knew all the same that I was going in the right direction.

Don’t matter none how bad it gets sometimes. You can always turn this shit around.

I was not much used to women except for mothers. Everything I did, they did different.

What? An alien. You think I'm from outer space." She snorts in disbelief. "I'm Kelly Tillman, you dumb-ass. From 41 Montana Avenue, Valentine, Texas. What's left of it. I canned seventh grade for a piece-of-crap job with lousy tips and lousy hours. You ain't telling me I'm the outsider here. No way.

Great," mumbles Kelly. "Bat stew cooked on a bat shit fire by an old bat.

This is a robbery. Sorry for the inconvenience'n'all but if you don't line up out here at the count of five then I'm gonna get all trigger-happy on your ass. One, two...

Visitation Day - I was not even born yet when the world stopped turning, twenty years ago. It is hard for me to imagine that moment, though I have heard the tale many times, for I have never seen the light of the moon or a sunrise

There is a great independence, and a confident immunity to risk, in all drinks made out of cactus.

If others fell by the wayside, dear women and strong, loved by men, how had she, single and unloved, kept her sanity?

That got me to laughing too. His laughter, like his yelling, got into you until you was right soaked with it. So you couldn’t help yourself. But it felt good. Light. I tell you, I hadn’t felt like that in a long while.

Right and wrong isn’t a matter of ethics, rather it’s the geography in which you reside and whose control you’re under. Tallinn Manual 2.0 is based largely on western international humanitarian law.

The truth be told, Lord, I don't like you very much right now.

The sun glanced off a long, wicked looking knife in the Comanche's grip. At least Cash wouldn't have long to mourn. The other Indians held similar weapons, but they hung back as their leader knelt next to Sullivan. He muttered something, low and guttural, a single syllable that sounded like an insult, then picked up a lock of Sullivan's hair. The knife descended toward his scalp. "No!" Reese shouted. "Me." The Comanche paused and stared at him with a spark of interest, almost admiration. But tha

Son of a bitch!" Cash erupted. "He's wearing Nate's guns." Reese had been too occupied gazing into those eyes to notice the oddity of a gun belt strapped around a naked waist. Cash was right. Those were Nate's pretty pearl pistols. Reese had never liked those guns. He liked them even less now. "Sullivan, ask him where he got those," Cash demanded. "What gave you the idea I can speak Comanche?" "Because you are one?" "You're a jackass, but I don't expect you to talk to a donkey." "This is no time

Turns out ovaries work just as good as balls when you're in the driver's seat.

Slaughter personified to him every evil of this war. It would never end for Tom until he had dealt with Slaughter. His chance had been delayed last night. The next time he encountered the Colonel, he’d kill him.

And if revenge was all I had, then I was goddamned if it wouldn’t be enough.

And then you realize one day that you can't remember her scent and nothing smells like her anymore. You can't remember how she feels or the sound of her voice. You haven't thought of her every second of every day. Then--then you feel more alone than on the day you lost her.

Tex’ forearm twitched before he snarled again; “Lay…the…fuck…off.” Each word dripped with venom.“We will but first I want to make sure you take my meaning – take it as gospel. Play your little game, fuck her bow-legged but when it comes down to a choice between you or her getting hurt, I’ll put a bullet in her pretty little head so fast you’ll think you imagined her.” With that, he walked off. Cy following behind. They tipped their hats to Elena as they passed her.

You’re a lady. It’s written all over you, but the West doesn’t forgive any woman-unless she’s got a man.

I’m not trying to start an argument with you,” William assured him. “I suppose I don’t know what it’s like to be a true revolutionary, though I think I’ve held some…similar…ideals. At times. Thought I could change things, if I fought hard enough.”“What did you try to change?”“Myself, in hopes that it would change others’ opinions of me.”“That is a bit more selfish than what we aspire to,” Luis clarified.William shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I pressed others to change as well. Guess I j

When giving up is not an option, you survive at any cost.

Clinton leaned in close, breath stinking. “I’m a well-compensated lawman, Reb. Let’s leave it at that. You’ll never prove anything else.” “You’re no lawman. You are a whore,” Tom growled.

Can’t count on no miracles. Sometimes, you just got to have a plan.

Becca watched Tucker bend at the waist. Mmm, mmm. He was sure built nice. From the top of his felt hat to the tips of his worn leather boots. Those leather chaps he'd just slung around his hips weren't too bad, either. He reached back to buckle the chap straps first around one jean-clad thigh, and then the other. And she'd thought the rodeo would be boring. Ha! She could watch Tucker do this all day. Buckle and unbuckle. Bend and stand. She let out a sign filled with pure contentment. "All right

It looks like you’ll be dying in Hellfire after all, Captain!” Slaughter shouted. “Just like your family in that Georgia shack did. Ha! Oh yes, I heard their screams inside! It was music to my ears!” Tom shouted back across the flames. “Whether you die by my hands today or not, you’ll be the one in Hell, with your twin Lucifer, you MURDERING BASTARD!

what I like and what I need’s two different things.

You shut your door to these poor women," he said so they could hear him, "and you'll answer for it the rest of your lives. You won't sleep. You'll choke on drinks. The food you eat'll block up your bowels and you'll die of your own shit.

The night sky is filled brimful as a night sky can be, lit brightly as it is with clusters of planets and pulsating stars and marriages of galaxies, all of it within a wobble of dust and gas and debris unseen. There are the Dippers Little and Big tonight, a lovely Pleiades, and a throbbing red star out like a tiny heart. This is the stuff of which we are made, I say to Son, all that is of us above us. We stand together looking upward, our mouths hung open as if to swallow what's above down and i

A tree.” She spotted one. It was hidden behind a much larger tree, its limbs misshapen in its attempt to fight for even a little sunlight in the shadow. “Dana has this tradition of giving a sad-looking tree the honor of being a Christmas tree.” She walked over to the small, nearly hidden tree. “I like this one. “It’s…” He laughed. “Ugly?” “No, it’s beautiful because it’s had a hard life. It’s struggled to survive against all odds and would keep doing that without much hope. But it has a chance t

He locked gazes with her. “I have to wonder why you aren’t being straight with me. I hate getting myself killed without knowing why.

He’d been trying to save this woman in his dreams for years. Now here she was, all grown up, and he still felt helpless.