“My calloused hands tell the story of my life. I’ve loved these fields more than a man can love anything outside his family. I’m a farmer. Engrave it on my headstone: Farmer.” — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“The guitar breathed. It inhaled and exhaled, and music filled the shop as the instrument picked the heartbreak of generations.” — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purred with blues and ended… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“This land pulses with life. It breathes in me; it breathes around me; it breathes in spite of me. When I walk on this… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“A real musician ain’t gonna choose his own guitar like an evil master choosing his slave. The guitar will choose his master and when… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“She struts into the hair salon, her mouth filled with a rotten egg of gossip, unshelled, filled with decay. As soon as she sits down she bites into the shell, and the stink of her lies fills the air, its goo dripping down her chin. With her new haircut she exits, leaving behind the putrid evidence that she’s as corrupt… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share
“My calloused hands tell the story of my life. I’ve loved these fields more than a man can love anything outside his family. I’m… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“There’s secrets hiding inside this six-string just waitin’ for somebody to find ‘em and turn ‘em into music.” — Brenda Sutton Rose 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 hummed. Something… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“The place cast a spell on me, a lovely spell that seduced me one one breath at a time.” — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“Jasmine felt a sense of power in cooking. It was she who controlled the ingredients, she who controlled the menus, and she who controlled… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
“There are parents who use their small children as weapons. They are weak people. Sick people. And their children are watching them, watching how… — Brenda Sutton Rose 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 know what… — Brenda Sutton Rose Copy Share Image
