Caribbean Quotes

Quotes tagged as "caribbean" Showing 1-30 of 72
Rick Riordan
“You’re that lady,” Leo said. “The one who was named after Caribbean music.”
Her eyes glinted murderously. “Caribbean music.”
“Yeah. Reggae?” Leo shook his head. “Merengue? Hold on, I’ll get it.”
He snapped his fingers. “Calypso!”
Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

Hunter S. Thompson
“It was the kind of town that made you feel like Humphrey Bogart: you came in on a bumpy little plane, and, for some mysterious reason, got a private room with balcony overlooking the town and the harbor; then you sat there and drank until something happened.”
Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum Diary

Junot Díaz
“My African roots made me what I am today. They’re the reason I’m from the Dominican Republic. They’re the reason I exist at all. To these roots I owe everything.”
Junot Díaz

Marti Melville
“Midnight Omen Deja vu" - Because everyone should experience love in the Caribbean...at least once in a lifetime.”
Marti Melville

Herman Wouk
“The West Indian is not exactly hostile to change, but he is not much inclined to believe in it. This comes from a piece of wisdom that his climate of eternal summer teaches him. It is that, under all the parade of human effort and noise, today is like yesterday, and tomorrow will be like today; that existence is a wheel of recurring patterns from which no one escapes; that all anybody does in this life is live for a while and then die for good, without finding out much; and that therefore the idea is to take things easy and enjoy the passing time under the sun. The white people charging hopefully around the islands these days in the noon glare, making deals, bulldozing airstrips, hammering up hotels, laying out marinas, opening new banks, night clubs, and gift shops, are to him merely a passing plague. They have come before and gone before.”
Herman Wouk, Don't Stop the Carnival

“I am persecuted because of my writings, I think, therefore, that I should write some more.”
Dr. Eric Williams, History of the People of Trinidad and Tobago

Christopher Hitchens
“Some say that because the United States was wrong before, it cannot possibly be right now, or has not the right to be right. (The British Empire sent a fleet to Africa and the Caribbean to maintain the slave trade while the very same empire later sent another fleet to enforce abolition. I would not have opposed the second policy because of my objections to the first; rather it seems to me that the second policy was morally necessitated by its predecessor.)”
Christopher Hitchens, A Long Short War: The Postponed Liberation of Iraq

Jamaica Kincaid
“The night-soil men can see a bird walking in trees. It isn't a bird. It is a woman who has removed her skin and is on her way to drink the blood of her secret enemies. It is a woman who has left her skin i a corner of a house made out of wood. It is a woman who is reasonable and admires honeybees in the hibiscus.”
Jamaica Kincaid, At the Bottom of the River

“Waves crack with wicked fury against me ship's hull while ocean currents rage as the full moon rises o're the sea."
(Cutthroat's Omen: A Crimson Dawn)”
Capt. John Phillips circa 1723

Junot Díaz
“But no matter what the truth, remember: Dominicans are Caribbean and therefore have an extraordinary tolerance for extreme phenomena”
Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

“Seigneur je suis très fatigué.
Je suis né fatigué.
Et j'ai beaucoup marché depuis le chant du coq
Et le morne est bien haut qui mène à leur école.
Seigneur, je ne veux plus aller à leur école,
Faites, je vous en prie, que je n'y aille plus.
Je veux suivre mon père dans les ravines fraîches
Quand la nuit flotte encore dans le mystère des bois
Où glissent les esprits que l'aube vient chasser.
Je veux aller pieds nus par les rouges sentiers
Que cuisent les flammes de midi,
Je veux dormir ma sieste au pied des lourds manguiers,
Je veux me réveiller
Lorsque là-bas mugit la sirène des blancs
Et que l'Usine
Sur l'océan des cannes
Comme un bateau ancré
Vomit dans la campagne son équipage nègre...
Seigneur, je ne veux plus aller à leur école,
Faites, je vous en prie, que je n'y aille plus.
Ils racontent qu'il faut qu'un petit nègre y aille
Pour qu'il devienne pareil
Aux messieurs de la ville
Aux messieurs comme il faut
Mais moi je ne veux pas
Devenir, comme ils disent,
Un monsieur de la ville,
Un monsieur comme il faut.
Je préfère flâner le long des sucreries
Où sont les sacs repus
Que gonfle un sucre brun autant que ma peau brune.
Je préfère vers l'heure où la lune amoureuse
Parle bas à l'oreille des cocotiers penchés
Ecouter ce que dit dans la nuit
La voix cassée d'un vieux qui raconte en fumant
Les histoires de Zamba et de compère Lapin
Et bien d'autres choses encore
Qui ne sont pas dans les livres.
Les nègres, vous le savez, n'ont que trop travaillé.
Pourquoi faut-il de plus apprendre dans les livres
Qui nous parlent de choses qui ne sont point d'ici ?
Et puis elle est vraiment trop triste leur école,
Triste comme
Ces messieurs de la ville,
Ces messieurs comme il faut
Qui ne savent plus danser le soir au clair de lune
Qui ne savent plus marcher sur la chair de leurs pieds
Qui ne savent plus conter les contes aux veillées.
Seigneur, je ne veux plus aller à leur école.”
Guy Tirolien, Balles D'or: Poèmes

Joanne C. Hillhouse
“People must know who dem be, must remember what important.” - Tanty to Nikki in Oh Gad!”
Joanne C. Hillhouse, Oh Gad!

Jamaica Kincaid
“What I see is the millions of people, of whom I am just one, made orphans: no motherland, no fatherland, no gods, no mounds of earth for holy ground, no excess of love which might lead to the things that an excess of love sometimes brings, and worst and most painful of all, no tongue. (For isn't it odd that the only language I have in which to speak of this crime is the language of the criminal who committed the crime? And what can that really mean? For the language of the criminal can contain only the goodness of the criminal's deed. The language of the criminal can explain and express the deed only from the criminal's point of view. It cannot contain the horror of the deed, the injustice of the deed, the agony, the humiliation inflicted one me.”
Jamaica Kincaid

Sharon Hurley Hall
“To be white in the Caribbean is to have money, power, and the freedom to do anything or nothing - it is, in many cases, to occupy the top rung of society.”
Sharon Hurley Hall, Exploring Shadeism

Anthony Lee Head
“Giving up on the drive to succeed is a good part of what being an expat is all about. If you travel all the way to the Caribbean Sea, you probably have already decided to trade the dog-eat-dog competition of modern living for a hammock on the sand.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Sharon Hurley Hall
“The experience of slavery is the bedrock on which Caribbean society has been founded.”
Sharon Hurley Hall, Exploring Shadeism

Errol Hill
“One of the major differences between ritual and theatre is that in ritual one communicates with the gods whereas in theatre communication is established with a human audience”
Errol Hill

Anthony Lee Head
“I call it the Margarita Road. It's the course your heart sets when you want to leave the past behind and start over someplace new and warm. Usually the path heads south to blue water and white sand, with any bumps along the way smoothed over by rum and tequila. It's not for everyone. This is a highway traveled mostly by runaways and drifters. I know, becuase I'm one of them.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“As I got to know my new neighbors, I found saints and sinners of every degree of good, bad, and strange. These aging adolescents thought of themselves as Peter Pan’s lost children, and the beach was their Neverland. Having run away from home, they now were refusing to grow up.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Errol Hill
“It is generally accepted that theatre developed from ritual, whose function was to reach an accommodation with powerful forces or gods without whose aid life would be intolerable”
Errol Hill

Anthony Lee Head
“Most of the pilgrims I met in Mexico were running from something: financial woes, a pissed-off spouse, or a life that hit a dead end. Regardless of the reasons for the journey, the Margarita Road will take you far from all those problems. Still, there are no guarantees. A funny thing about the past--it can catch up to you even on a remote tropical seashore. Sometimes you bring it with you.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“It didn’t take me long to settle into my new life as a beach bar owner in paradise. Truthfully, it wasn’t a demanding career. Trust me when I say that serving rum drinks to girls in tiny bikinis isn’t that big of a chore.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“For some time now, people like me had been drifting south, ending up in Mexico with Jimmy Buffett songs playing in their heads. They left behind mortgages, failed marriages, and a lifetime of disappointments. Some of them came looking for a fresh start, and some were searching for a place to hide. A few were pulled by a dream they could never quite understand, until they walked down the beach to that crystal-clear water for the first time.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“Oh sure, there was a gringo gulch where the sunbirds lived in the winter months. But if you avoided them, you might hook up with the small community of Margarita Road refugees: a group of wanderers from up north; a crazy Irish sailor; a few Italians; some young, fast-living kids from Mexico City; and one beautiful girl from Brazil. All in all, it was a nice place to stay—or hide, if that’s what you needed.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“It wasn’t hard to understand. Mexican women are something special. They learn early on that men are subservient to them. They are trained by their mothers in the use of this power over these lowly creatures.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“The Margarita Road isn’t just about flip flops and late-night beach parties. Running away can be hard work.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“He kept ordering beers and making what he thought were humorous jokes about how Mexicans sleep all day, all the while telling me how great my life was without a ‘real job.’ After an hour or so of this, I was ready to pour the next drink over his head.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“What if we are all simply lost souls blown off course, just trying to get home?”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

Anthony Lee Head
“Life down here is kind of a permanent Halloween where you choose a costume more fitting for your self-image than reality could ever offer. Do you want to be a captain or a cowboy? No problem. People will call you by whatever title or name you choose. You say you’re a reincarnated pirate queen or the abandoned love child of a famous entertainer? That’s fine with me. We believe each other’s stories about who we were and who we are. Being an expat means you can have a whole new life. It’s a little like being in the Witness Relocation Program only with flip flops and margaritas.”
Anthony Lee Head, Driftwood: Stories from the Margarita Road

“After crossing most of the North American continent our destination was Goldfield Nevada, a place in the middle of nowhere that I had been to some years before. This ghost town held a special place in my heart and I still feel nostalgic remembering how I got there from LA when I was in my teens. Now as we rolled into town I had the same feeling and thought that my son’s would capture the same aura that I felt years before.
Entering the “Santa Fe Club,” an authentic old saloon, we were greeted as if we were neighbors that had just stopped in for a drink. It was as if I had never left but of course that wasn’t true. The bartender asked if we were there for some chicken? I had no idea what he was talking about until he explained that a chicken truck had run off the road and rolled over just outside of town.
It took some doing but some of the men in town caught, killed, cleaned and plucked a wack of them and brought them to the saloon for frying. I assumed that he meant that he had fried the chickens and best of was that he offered them free to anyone who came through the doors.
I still don’t know if they tasted so good because we were hungry or that they were free. The story of the chicken truck was told for years afterward but he also told me that he remembered me from before, when I was the kid looking for the publisher of the five-page newspaper. “Well, he’s gone and is now in the cemetery but we’re not, so have some more chicken” were his lasting words of wisdom!”
Captain Hank Bracker, Seawater series

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