36 Quotes About North-carolina

I'm too old to be ignorant as I am." --Twelve-year-old Gabriella to the general, who does not want her to know about Emmett Till and the world's brutality.

N’ another thing,” Mitch said reaching into his pocket. “I made ya this,” he continued, opening his hand to reveal a ring. “Yer gonna be causin’ lots of talk ’round here ‘bout where ya came from n’ why yer boy ain’t got no papa here ‘bouts. I sanded the high spots so it’ll shine when ya hold it to th’ light. Ye can determine if ye wants to wear it.” she smiled as she slipped it onto the finger of her left hand. “I will wear it until I see no need.

Ain’t nothing too serious. Even death is a joke on the old devil, if we are living for the Lord.

NC passed law against global warming science, therefore it's not happening. So I'm ignoring Twitter's 140-character limit, so it's not happ

For a moment, I wondered how different my life would have been had they been my parents, but I shook the thought away. I knew my father had done the best he could, and I had no regrets about the way I'd turned out. Regrets about the journey, maybe, but not the destination. Because however it had happened, I'd somehow ended up eating shrimp in a dingy downtown shack with a girl that I already knew I'd never forget.

And so I sit on the dunes in my carefully mismatched clothes, hour after hour, day after day, frozen in my looking back. 'Do not look behind you...lest you be swept away.' That is what scripture say. Only there is nowhere for me to look but back. No future. No redemption. Like Lot's wife, I am turned to salt, my tired eyes trained on the blue-gray horizon, where sea meets sky, where my yesterday's met my tomorrows, a ragtag eccentric, watching and waiting for something that never comes.

mountains. They stand at every view, like a mother offering a blanket in which to wrap everyday life and shelter it from useless. dreads. In june they are walls of white rhodendron blossom. In autumn the forests set themselves afflame with color. Even winter has its icy charms.

Margaret Calhoun may not have been a holy roller, but she sure could fry the Hell out of a chicken.

I love my State, because her people have been good and kind to me, and because her sky is above my home, as it will be above my grave.