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Louisiana Quotes

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Louisiana Quotes

“One of the things that has always attracted me to abandoned locations is the austere beauty of the neglected or forgotten. The textures, colors, shadows, and lines speak of a life once lived within the confines, and the absence is as empty as it is filled. I can feel the wheel of time turn within these places as nature takes back what was only borrowed, infiltrating the cracks and seams with the tendrils of her vine-fingers, while spray painting the surfaces with moss, mold, and dirt.”

“When you first step from your comfort bubble into a new environment, all the sensory details are acutely apparent: the guttural sound of the toads, what locals call the Ouaouarons (pronounced “wa-wa-rons”), the crooning of some foreign night bird deep in a jungle of pine, palmetto, and cypress, the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers mixing with the loamy, earthen banks of the bayou, Spanish Moss draped like early Halloween decorations on the sagging arms of tree-giants, and the feel of thick, wet air filling your head and chest.”

“We came to discover a world rich with culture, history, and bayous. This flat swampy territory is riddled with waterways, snaking like veins and arteries between forests filled with crooked cypress trees. Sulphur is home to a Cajun populace, and unlike its more well-known southeastern counterpart, New Orleans, which is predominantly Creole, it was originally settled by Acadians.”

“The wet floor was difficult to navigate and the musty smell of rot, tinged with ammonia, was sharp in my nose. It was evident that the building’s current occupants were engaged in questionable activities, so while I wanted to explore and capture the dark beauty of this forgotten place, I did not care to stumble upon anyone living or deceased.”

“Looking into his eyes instead of where she was stepping, she put her foot too far to the edge of the step and as she shifted her weight forward to get onto the boat, her foot slid and she ended up falling into Chase. He caught her—also like some stupid romantic movie—but the bag she was holding whacked him in the leg and he winced. She looked down. It didn’t just hold strands of lights. There was also a big, hard plastic, gold-glitter covered star. With very sharp points. One of which was poking into his leg. Bailey quickly shifted to move the bag away from his leg but that only managed to press her hips into his. And the big, hard shape behind his fly. Her eyes flew to his face. He was looking down at her. His expression held pain, amusement, heat, and exasperation all at once. Impressively. “Sorry I’m poking you,” she said, her voice breathless. “I was going to say the same.” His grin registered before his words did.”

“The forest was dense, and filled with all manner of vines and rank undergrowth; the road was a vague opening, where obstructing trees had been felled, the stumps and rotten trunks remaining. Across actual quags a track of logs and saplings had been laid, but long ago, now rotten and in broken patches. As far as the eye could reach, muddy water, sent back by a south wind from the gulf, extended over the vast flat before us, to a depth of from two to six feet, as per immediate personal measurement. We spurred in. One foot: Two feet, with hard bottom: Belly-deep, hard bottom: Shoulder-deep, soft bottom: Shoulder-deep, with a sucking mire: The same, with a network of roots, in which a part of the legs are entangled, while the rest are plunging. The same, with a middle ground of loose poles; a rotten log, on which we rise dripping, to slip forward next moment, head under, haunches in air. It is evident we have reached one of the spots it would have been better to avoid.”

“The horses, reluctant and excited from the first, become furious and wild. At the next shoal-personal nastiness being past consideration-we dismount, at knee-deep, to give them a moment's rest, shifting the mule's saddle to the trembling long-legged mare, and turning Mr. Brown loose, to follow as he could. After a breathing-spell we resume our splashed seats and the line of wade. Experience has taught us something, and we are more shrewd in choice of footing, the slopes around large trees being attractively high ground, until, by a stumble on a covered root, a knee is nearly crushed against a cypress trunk. Gullies now commence, cut by the rapid course of waters flowing off before north winds, in which it is good luck to escape instant drowning. Then quag again; the pony bogs; the mare, quivering and unmanageable, jumps sidelong among loose corduroy; and here are two riders standing waist-deep in mud and water between two frantic, plunging-horses, fortunately not beneath them. Nack soon extricates himself, and joins the mule, looking on terrified from behind. Fanny, delirious, believes all her legs broken and strewn about her, and falls, with a whining snort, upon her side. With incessant struggles she makes herself a mud bath, in which, with blood-shot eyes, she furiously rotates, striking, now and then, some stump, against which she rises only to fall upon the other side, or upon her back, until her powers are exhausted, and her head sinks beneath the surface. Mingled with our uppermost sympathy are thoughts of the soaked note-books, and other contents of the saddle-bags, and of the.hundred dollars that drown with her. What of dense soil there was beneath her is now stirred to porridge, and it is a dangerous exploit to approach. But, with joint hands, we length succeed in grappling her bridle, and then in hauling her nostrils above water. She revives only for a new tumult of dizzy pawing, before which we hastily retreat. At a second pause her lariat is secured, and the saddle cut adrift. For a half-hour the alternate resuscitation continues, until we are able to drag the head of the poor beast, half strangled by the rope, as well as the mud and water, toward firmer ground, where she recovers slowly her senses and her footing. Any further attempts at crossing the somewhat "wet" Neches bottoms are, of course, abandoned, and even the return to the ferry is a serious sort of joke. However, we congratulate ourselves that we are leaving, not entering the State.”

“Amelia was instantly distracted when she heard one of her favorite songs: What a Wonderful World made famous by Louis Armstrong. The woman singing did the song justice as she sang: I see trees of gree, red roses, too. I see them bloom, for me and you. And I think to myself. What a wonderful world! Before she could blink an eye, Rick pulled her into his arms in a waltz position. He gave her a wink and said flirtatiously, “May I have this dance, my love?” As they danced to the rhythm of the music, Amelia said, “Don’t ever stop flirting with me, no matter how old we get.” “Never!”

“Rick smiled as he watched the waves roll toward their feet. He turned to her and said, “Since we’re going to Louisiana, I did some research and learned a few things. Did you know it’s famous for its gumbo and bayous?” Amelia’s eyes brightened. “Really? I’ve seen pictures of a bayou in a magazine. It’s so mysterious looking.” “It’s also the crawdad capital of the world.” “Crawdad? What’s that?” Rick’s eyes widened with surprise. “You don’t know what crawdads are?” She shook her head. “They’re a freshwater crayfish, similar to shrimp… only better.”

“It wasn’t a horror movie, Mama,” said Jody adamantly. “It had zombies, didn’t it?” “Yes, ma’am, but it’s a love story.” Rick laughed. He was amused with the young girl’s defense. “Have you seen it?” asked Jody. “It’s called Warm Bodies.” Rick shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Is it good?” Jody’s eyes brightened. “Oh my gosh! You have to see it…”

“Beside it lay a stiff piece of high-quality parchment paper. Evie’s fingers, hesitant, reached for the note. The paper was unnaturally cold to the touch. Unfolding it slowly, a profound silence fell over the kitchen as she read the peculiar, almost musical verse aloud. “On the first eerie night of the 13 days to Halloween, my true fright gave to me: A Rougarou by a cypress tree!”

“From Sashé Boudreaux: It’s said a Cajun woman only needs three things in life, ’cause everything else worth havin’ flows right outta them: a solid foundation (and I don’t mean makeup), a faithful man, and a good étouffée. Mostly I agree… but they left out the beignets. Truth is, life’s a recipe—stir slow, season well, and always set an extra place at the table. You never know who might come along needing a kind ear, a soft place to land, and something warm in their belly.”

“I think of myself as Rebecca Wells from Lodi Plantation, in Central Louisiana, a girl who was lucky enough to be born into a family that encouraged creativity and didn't call me lazy or nuts when I dressed up in my mother's peignoirs and played the piano, having painted a small sign decorated in glitter that read 'The Piano Fairy Girl.”

“My wife is from Laurel, Mississippi, and she has a lot of relatives down in Louisiana, Baton Rouge, and Shreveport, Louisiana. We go down there a lot. We got married in New Orleans. She has a cousin who introduced me to swamp pop, which is sort of zydeco/Cajun music with a little uptempo pop swing. Now I'm a big zydeco fan, I'm a big swamp-music fan.”

“Accounts of outrages committed by mobs form the every-day news of the times. They have pervaded the country from New England to Louisiana, they are neither peculiar to the eternal snows of the former nor the burning suns of the latter; they are not the creature of climate, neither are they confined to the slaveholding or the non-slaveholding States. Alike they spring up among the pleasure-hunting masters of Southern slaves, and the order-loving citizens of the land of steady habits. Whatever then their cause may be, it is common to the whole country.”

“Louisiana, as ceded by France to the United States, is made a part of the United States; its white inhabitants shall be citizens, and stand, as to their rights and obligations, on the same footing with other citizens of the United States, in analogous situations.”

“The broadening of the economic order which came to be seated in the individual property owner... dramatized by Jefferson's purchase of the Louisiana Territory... "The supremacy of corporate economic power... consolidated by the Supreme Court decision of 1886 which declared that the Fourteenth Amendment protected the corporation... [the New Deal, leading to], within the political arena, as well as in the corporate world itself, competing centers of power that challenged those of the corporate directors.”

“What we've witnessed in the past 25 or 30 years is just incredible. We've birthed 30,000 or 40,000 restaurants. I used to go to Europe every year to get experience [and ideas]. I don't go to Europe anymore. I go to Oregon, I go to Washington, I go to Louisiana, I go to Little Rock, I go to Austin, I travel New York City. I don't go to Europe anymore.”

“My SUV, assuming Hummer comes out with a model for those who find the current ones too cramped, will look something like the Louisiana Superdome on wheels. It'll guzzle so much gas as I walk out to my driveway there will be squads of Saudi princes gaping and applauding. It'll come, when I buy it, with little Hondas and Mazdas already embedded in the front grillwork.”

“Going from Army base to base as a kid taught me to be a man of all nations. I'd go to the Jewish people and say, 'Shalom, brother.' I go to the Muslim people and say, 'Salaam aleikum.'I go to the Chinese people and say, 'Nee hao mah,' which means, 'How you doin'?' I go to the Japanese people and say, 'Konnichiwa.' I go to San Antonio, Texas, and I get along with Mexicans. Then I go to Louisiana and hang with the Creoles. Moving around a lot made me a man of all people.”