Southern Fiction Quotes

Quotes tagged as "southern-fiction" (showing 1-30 of 82)
Taylor  Brown
“It wasn’t dying that she feared, it was dying bad: leaving her grandboy alone in the world, unprotected, his wounds unhealed. Death, which walked ever through these mountains, knew she would not go down easy.”
Taylor Brown, Gods of Howl Mountain

Wilton Barnhardt
“Southerners. Such literate, civilized folk, such charm and cleverness and passion for living, such genuine interest in people, all people, high and low, white and black, and yet how often it had come to, came to, was still coming to vicious incomprehension, usually over race but other things too - religion, class, money. How often the lowest elements had burst out of the shadows and hollers, guns and torches blazing, galloping past the educated and tolerant as nightriders, how often the despicable had run riot over the better Christian ideals... how often cities had burned, people had been strung up in trees, atrocities had been permitted to occur and then, in the seeking of justice for those outrages, how slippery justice had proven, how delayed its triumph. Oh you expect such easily obtained violence in the Balkans or among Asian or African tribal peoples centuries-deep in blood feuds, but how was there such brutality and wickedness in this place of church and good intention, a place of immense friendliness and charity and fondness for the rituals of family and socializing, amid the nation's best cooking and best music... how could one place contain the other place?”
Wilton Barnhardt, Lookaway, Lookaway

Brenda Sutton Rose
“Are you aware that Jesus Christ can spell? I get so tired of you spelling every slang and cuss word that crosses your mind, as though you are pulling one over on the Lord.”
Brenda Sutton Rose, Dogwood Blues

Scott B. Pruden
“By the standards of a tourist strolling past looking for a quick lunch, the place was a dive. The sign on the window was small and easy to miss, and the antique feel of the place wasn't the prepackaged, old-shit-on-the-wall nostalgia that came with so many chain restaurants. The cafe was just old, and everything about it said old. But Jon liked it that way, if only because it kept the tourists away and spared him from hearing imported ignorance when there was plenty of local ignorance to go around.”
Scott B. Pruden

Patricia Hickman
“Humans need each other for equilibrium and support. But writers must pull aside to take a quiet walk alone, not just for the sake of serenity but to hear the Voice inside. That is how the storyteller connects with with others--listen, write, share.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Patricia Hickman
“Because of sorrow, my awareness of life's pulse is strongly detectable. It is syncopation while I journey, a lap of ocean in the eyes of every person I meet. This awareness informs the flesh of my stories. Grief has been an odd companion, at first a terror, but now I am all the better having accepted it for its intrinsic worth.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Brenda Sutton Rose
“The truth had lacerated him to the bone, had punctured his heart, and had ripped through his soul. The truth had slain him and tended to his wounds. The truth had hated him and loved him. The truth had opened his eyes to his own faults.”
Brenda Sutton Rose, Dogwood Blues

Scott B. Pruden
“The ultimate downfall of the computerized holographic receptionist was that there was no amount of flattery, flirtation or chocolate that could convince one to lie for you.”
Scott B. Pruden

Flannery O'Connor
“The woods are full of regional writers, and it is the great horror of every serious Southern writer that he will become one of them.”
Flannery O'Connor, Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose

J.L. Murphey
“There were thousands of children just like her in the world. She had walked through the fire and come out the other side scorched, but not consumed by it.”
J.L. Murphey, The Sacrificial Lamb

Patricia Hickman
“Facing the sagging middle when writing a novel, while inevitable, may be
overcome by pre-planning. I divide my collection of proposed scenes into three acts, each scene inciting tension that builds toward the final crisis in Act Three. If by Act Two the emotional river isn't spilling over the banks, I reassess the plot so that once the writing is flowing I don't slide into a dry creek. The central character should be struggling to navigate life well into the end of Act One, even if her fiercest antagonist is only from within.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Lisa Patton
“Nobody ever told me you can't bury somebody up North in the wintertime.”
Lisa Patton, Whistlin' Dixie in a Nor'easter

Patricia Hickman
“While writing the first draft is an exercise in shutting down all of the things we think we know so that the story features come tumbling out, the revision is the end of the joy ride. We pull on the gloves and sort of poke around inside the body. Is that a tumor? Will that limb need amputation? I nearly second-guessed myself into heart failure while learning to self-edit.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Patricia Hickman
“I started out hoping to remind people at some point in the novel that we should be loving and kind. But then the theme usurped my life, spilling over into my novels until love was no longer a small voice, but now my purpose as a writer.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Patricia Hickman
“The conflict each day is whether to immerse in books or writing. I can't do one without the other, but I can't do both at the same time. It is the writer's paradox.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Scott B. Pruden
“Nothing helps your partner keep his mind on Jesus more than having a sign of His love tanned on your primary erogenous zones.”
Scott B. Pruden

Patricia Hickman
“The confessional writer will treat her story like a wailing wall. She kneels, and her story spills out, messy, improper. It isn’t a protest or even graffiti, but her story is an offering of things that she overlooked or notices that others have overlooked. She is in danger of exposure but she remembers when she lived in hiding and that was worse. She cannot turn back now because this is how life has spun out of her, part vexing passage and part prayer.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Patricia Hickman
“The central character is an incomplete package of yearning that takes the length of the novel to complete. Completion, though, is not to be confused with perfection.”
Patricia Hickman, The Pirate Queen

Brenda Sutton Rose
“I asked about the price of the guitars, reminding him that if expected me to man the cash register, I’d need to know what to charge. He told me, 'There ain’t no set price on these babies. Take what the customer offers you. Even if it’s his soul.”
Brenda Sutton Rose

Claire Fullerton
“The Memphis Finley and I landed in was my mother’s Memphis. It was magnolia-lined and manicured, black-tailed and bow-tied. It glittered in illusory gold and tinkled in sing-song voices. It was cloistered, segregated, and well-appointed, the kind of place where everyone monogrammed their initials on everything from hand towels to silver because nothing mattered more than one’s family and to whom they were connected by lineage that traced through the fertile fields of the Mississippi Delta.”
Claire Fullerton, Mourning Dove

Randolph Randy Camp
“Them dandelion wishes float and float for miles hoping they might get lucky and find a place to root.”
Randolph Randy Camp, False Dandelions

Randolph Randy Camp
“Here we go again, changing face.”
Randolph Randy Camp, False Dandelions

Randolph Randy Camp
“You're all I got.”
Randolph Randy Camp, False Dandelions

Tammy Lynne Stoner
“This is how it goes in life: sometimes you’re born with a cleft palette or rickets, like my bow-legged Granddaddy, or a touch short on brains, like my Great Aunt Cal who everyone called ‘Stool.’ Me? I’m a double hitter. In addition to being what folks call “large boned,” I came into this world with homosexual tendencies—though back then I thought of it only as my strange, strong affections for some female friends, having no such notion of “homosexual tendencies” as a thing, at least not in Midland, Texas.

Notions of this nature found footing in me eight months before I ran away to work in the kitchen at Sugarland Prison, when I got a job at the egg store. The egg store was all wood. Wood floors, wood ceiling beams, wood shelves—that rugged, knotty, reddish wood. The simple kind of wood they used to bury folks in before the floods, when rotting coffins popped from the ground like splinters and dead bodies dropped out in maggoty heaps.

The egg store smelled like wood, too, which I liked. That and just the tiniest hint of smoke from Bibby’s metal pork smoker two streets over. I swear he ran that thing day and night, crazy redneck. And that’s where I fell in love for the first time, there in the egg store that smelled like wood and smoked pig fat.”
tammy lynne stoner, Sugar Land

Tammy Lynne Stoner
“The thing my eyes settled on was the line in that letter that said: That this baby came from me has to be kept a secret.

A secret. I knew even then that secrets have a way of working themselves out of tight spots, of springing up somewhere else where the dirt is softer. Maybe since my secret didn’t see the light of day all those years ago, I passed it along to this child. I should have been honest and told people that once, back in 1923, I loved a girl who loved me back and it changed everything. I should have told her that, despite preferring the company of woman, I didn't live a false life with her Daddy—it was just like having hamburger when you want steak.

I should have said something.”
Tammy Lynne Stoner, Sugar Land

Randolph Randy Camp
“Young man, we find our place in this world, we don't force our way in it!”
Randolph Randy Camp, False Dandelions

Claire Fullerton
“What is the fire of inspiration that resides within, if not something to follow along a path?”
Claire Fullerton, Mourning Dove

Toni Orrill, M.Ed.
“Patient: Where is Carey Street?
Miss Ida: "Go stand out in the street and you'll find it.”
Toni Orrill, M.Ed.

“Food is prevalent in the novel (To Kill A Mockingbird), with many mentions of tempting Southern treats, including ambrosia, turnip greens, Lane cake, crackling bread, peach pickles, dewberry tarts, fried pork chops and Nehi cola.”
Dinah Fried, Fictitious Dishes: An Album of Literature's Most Memorable Meals

Daisy Pettles
“Dode Schneider wasn't right in the head even before that snowplow hit him”
Daisy Pettles, Ghost Busting Mystery

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