“If you threw Elvis and a scarecrow in a blender, topped the whole thing off with Seagram's 7 and pressed dice, you… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“The locust has no king Just noise and hard language They talk me over” — David Eugene Edwards Copy Share Image
“When we became teenagers boredom grew like a moth in a cocoon fighting to escape, and the peace created by our parents… — Scott Thompson Copy Share Image
“I look out past the corn and the wheat and wonder how many sets of bones are buried, unspoken, keeping their stories… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“In the molten fire where he lay he could watch the slow machinations of eternity, the cosmic miracle of each second being… — William Gay Copy Share Image
“Her hands crept around his neck, tangling in his hair to keep him closer, even though she knew that beautiful boys with… — Martina Boone Copy Share Image
“Southerners are an easygoing race when it comes to aberrations of conduct. They will react with anger if something out of the… — Michael McDowell Copy Share Image
“It wasn’t dying that she feared, it was dying bad: leaving her grandboy alone in the world, unprotected, his wounds unhealed. Death,… — Taylor Brown Copy Share Image
“He chose a guitar from one of the oak cabinets. Picking it with his calloused fingers, he squeezed his eyes shut and… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“But somewhere in America, between the freeways and the Food-4-Less, between the filling stations and the 5-o-'clock news, behind the blue blinking… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“In the morning we shed our blue sheep’s clothing. Our border shirts came out of satchels and onto our backs. We preferred… — Daniel Woodrell Copy Share Image
“You got to tell me brave captain, why are the wicked so strong, how do the angels get to sleep, when the… — Tom Waits Copy Share Image
“I asked about the price of the guitars, reminding him that if expected me to man the cash register, I’d need to… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“He found Granny on the porch, asleep. Her chin sat on her chest, rising and falling with her breath. He gathered her… — Taylor Brown Copy Share Image
“Out west everything has its own space. Every little ramshackle cabin, shack, hut sits perched atop its own little piece of destiny… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“From When Goodness Dies “Goodness doesn’t vanish—it fades slowly, like the last light in a room where love used to live.” — Thomas Miller Copy Share Image
“Many see Southern Gothic literature as just recalling the "bad old days." This is not the case. There are still those places… — Damon Thomas Copy Share Image
