Southwest Quotes

Quotes tagged as "southwest" (showing 1-19 of 19)
Edward Abbey
“Standing there, gaping at this monstrous and inhumane spectacle of rock and cloud and sky and space, I feel a ridiculous greed and possessiveness come over me. I want to know it all, posess it all, embrace the entire scene intimately, deeply, totally...”
Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

“This landscape is animate: it moves, transposes, builds, proceeds, shifts, always going on, never coming back, and one can only retain it in vignettes, impressions caught in a flash, flipped through in succession, leaving a richness of images imprinted on a sunburned retina.”
Ann Zwinger, Downcanyon: A Naturalist Explores the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon

Steven Magee
“The 'Wild West' is a good description of law enforcement in the desert southwest USA.”
Steven Magee

Sharman Apt Russell
“The women in the kitchen sang: Sarampión toca la puerta. Viruela dice: ¿Quién es? Y Escarlatina contesta: ¡Aquí estamos los tres! The cook would sometimes shout a little madly, “Sing it again!” And the women would sing again: Measles knocks at the door. Smallpox asks, Who’s there? And Scarlet Fever replies: All three of us are here!”
Sharman Apt Russell, Teresa of the New World

Steven Magee
“Very few people in the USA realize that a nuclear war was waged with nature in the southwest by their own military.”
Steven Magee

David Foster Wallace
“...people outdoors here just scuttle in vectors from air conditioning to air conditioning. The sun is a hammer. I can feel one side of my face start to cook. The blue sky is glossy and fat with heat, a few thin cirri sheared to blown strands like hair at the rims.”
David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

Zita Steele
“The Diné are children of the sun. They are rugged and graceful people. They love the radiance of color and silver, the purity of nature, and the speed of horses. They have a gift for adaptation and creativity. They do everything with spontaneity and flair.”
Zita Steele, Dine: A Tribute to the Navajo People

Sharman Apt Russell
“Now she could smell what the jaguar could smell, odors deeper and richer than anything she had experienced before, layers of smell she could read like Fray Tomás had read the words in her father’s book: the wet decay of leaves, the death fear of a mouse, the poisonous cloy of datura, water and mud and insects, the wind carrying the smell of other animals, the wind itself, and the girl, of course, always the girl with her juicy flesh. The girl smelled incredibly good. Should the jaguar do this? Should Teresa eat herself?”
Sharman Apt Russell, Teresa of the New World

C.K. Thomas
“Take a chance, amaze yourself!”
C.K. Thomas, Arrowstar

Sharman Apt Russell
“Cabeza de Vaca had wrapped her in his arms and in his language, whispering about a life she did not understand although understanding seemed to form just beyond the sea and sand, waiting there for her to grow older. Even when the story confused her, she had caught words or phrases, ideas like fish, bold and surprising, tasting of her father’s mind. She had learned quickly to nod and speak because he needed her to do this, because his need surrounded her like the blue sky. She was his bastard, and he had loved her. Yes, he had loved her. That was the memory she couldn’t bear.”
Sharman Apt Russell, Teresa of the New World

Noel Marie Fletcher
“Each of the three cultures in New Mexico during the mid-1800s (Caucasian, Hispanic, and Native American) were actively involved in kidnapping each other. As competition and fighting occurred between the three races, cruelty and violence were rampant on all sides. Yet, some captives found kindness among their captors.”
Noel Marie Fletcher, Captives of the Southwest

Noel Marie Fletcher
“As Rachel ran with her 18-month-old son James Pratt, she was knocked down to the ground by a hoe, dragged by her hair, and separated from her child. She found herself taken to the area where her uncle Benjamin had been mutilated; arrows had been stuck in his body, and passing warriors thrust spears into it.”
Noel Marie Fletcher, Captives of the Southwest

Noel Marie Fletcher
“One time, a 16-year-old member of Vicente’s group risked his safety trying to save a captive Texas girl, who had been seized by Comanches while taking clothes to wash at a stream near her house.”
Noel Marie Fletcher, Captives of the Southwest

Noel Marie Fletcher
“She worked there for several months as a slave in a Mexican family until they sold her to a wealthy Hispanic man from Santa Fe, N.M. He also purchased another young captive Apache woman from New Mexico to accompany them. Both women were loaded onto an oxcart bound for Santa Fe in a journey that could take at least three months.”
Noel Marie Fletcher, Captives of the Southwest

Noel Marie Fletcher
“A common thread that weaves the stories of all the captives together is race—one racial group attacking another. Many innocent people were simply trying to live their ordinary lives when another group decided it was justifiable to use violence to rob, beat, murder, kidnap, sometimes mutilate, and enslave others and their loved ones.”
Noel Marie Fletcher, Captives of the Southwest

Noel Marie Fletcher
“Despite it all, there were heroes who rose above their circumstances. Those who reached out to people of another race with compassion and even love.”
Noel Marie Fletcher, Captives of the Southwest

Stefanie Payne
“Big Bend National Park is intensely wild and extraordinarily beautiful – tucked away at the end of a couple of roads in southwest Texas.”
Stefanie Payne, A Year in the National Parks: The Greatest American Road Trip

Stefanie Payne
“It is a spectacular illusion – a deeply three-dimensional scene flattened onto an earthly canvas.”
Stefanie Payne, A Year in the National Parks: The Greatest American Road Trip

“Rim

are there horizons
where there is no horizontal

where mountains fold space,
hold distance up?

embedded in a canyon
our heads tilt instinctively.

here earth meets sky,
we can reach it; the rim

does not shimmer and recede.

we lean into diagonal lives,
relieved of right angles

eyes, arms, hearts drawn
upward, vectored to ridgelines

keenly aware of the slant
of time, its shape and substance;

it is a wedge; it moves
along ray-stroked slopes;

we pass into it,
are passed over.”
Laurelyn Whitt