Corral Quotes

I guess all I'm trying to say is that language may be large, unwieldy, and in a perpetual state of transformation - in other words, language is like love - but, unlike Dr. D, I don't think it's greater than we are. I think it's our duty, in fact, to corral it into coherence; to suppress its more unruly tendencies; to verify its meaning and, more importantly, its efficacy; to test its subjectivity-bridging potential. (Again, we should treat it very much like love.) ~ Alena Graedon

.....I'm certain I asked for a cowboy one December past--
For I wanted the excitement of pioneers to last;
I ached to sing with a fiddle, speak with a drawl and twang;
I surely requested John Wayne to be part of my gang.

Of course I dreamed of a cowboy in those Yuletides of yore--
For I wanted that ace, that corral fighter, that scout roar;
I ached for the authentic frontier hero of the West;
I surely requested the sacred battleground's finest.

I did pray Santa'd give me a cowboy some time ago--
For I wanted a legend in denim wrangler for beau;
I ached to be rounded up safely by my saddled knight;
I surely requested I be prospected, mined, settled right...


-----excerpted from the poem 'A Cowboy For Christmas' in the book FROM GUAM TO CROWN CITY CORONADO (THANKS TO HERMANN, MISSOURI): A JOURNEY IN POESY, by Mariecor Ruediger ~ Mariecor Ruediger

Reason is the shepherd trying to corral life's vast flock of wild irrationalities. ~ Paul Eldridge

We gathered up the kids and sat up on the hill. We had no time to get our chickens and no time to get our horses out of the corral. The water came in and smacked against the corral and broke the horses' legs. The drowned, and the chickens drowned. We sat on the hill and we cried. These are the stories we tell about the river," said [Ladona] Brave Bull Allard. The granddaughter of Chief Brave Bull, she told her story at a Missouri River symposium in Bismark, North Dakota, in the fall of 2003.

Before The Flood, her Standing Rock Sioux Tribe lived in a Garden of Eden, where nature provided all their needs. "In the summer, we would plant huge gardens because the land was fertile," she recalled. We had all our potatoes and squash. We canned all the berries that grew along the river. Now we don't have the plants and the medicine they used to make. ~ Bill Lambrecht

She had streaked blonde hair, long and straight, parted in the middle framing high cheek bones, an aquiline nose and beautiful deep blue eyes. She was young, around 30, tall and lithe with a good body, athletic, not skinny. She wore a sleeveless black dress that exposed her toned arms and shoulders, indicating regular workouts or yoga. There was a hint of vein running the length of her lean muscle. This girl stood out like an arabian in a corral full of draft horses. ~ Nick Hahn

Don't corral me, and I'll always come home. Just let me go out and play during the day. ~ Sandra Bullock

Trying to corral the suburban stampede with a bunch of school buses was like herding cats. Actually, it was worse than herding cats. It was herding white people, earth's only species with a greater sense of entitlement than a cat. ~ Tanner Colby

What the US evidently sought to impose by main force on Iraq was a state apparatus whose fundamental mission was to facilitate conditions for profitable capital accumulation on the part of both domestic and foreign capital. I call this kind of state apparatus a neoliberal state. The freedoms it embodies reflect the interests of private property owners, businesses, multinational corporations, and financial capital. Bremer invited the Iraqis, in short, to ride their horse of freedom straight into the neoliberal corral. ~ David Harvey

If I ask for a goldfish, he spits a glob of phlegm
into a jar of water. ~ Eduardo C. Corral

Words are as beautiful as wind horses, and sometimes as difficult to corral. ~ Ted Berkman

I have to pause the video while I corral the dogs in the other room. They howl in protest, and I tell them they are harshing my mellow and Yogi Beef Jerky's going to be pissed.
Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest To Discover if Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big, Or Why Pie is Not The Answer ~ Jen Lancaster

You should fear me too, Mr. Waist Gunner, with your burn. What a silly thing - waist gunner. You gun from the waist?" She struck a pose, holding her hands in the shape of guns at her waist, face screwed into a scowl that all enemies should fear. She looked like a grandma gunslinger at the O.K. Corral. ~ Tracy Groot

I'm not sure how the ponies happened, though I have an inkling: "Can I get you anything?" I'll say, getting up from a dinner table, "Coffee, tea, a pony?" People rarely laugh at this, especially if they've heard it before. "This party's 'sposed to be fun," a friend will say. "Really? Will there be pony rides?" It's a nervous tic and a cheap joke, cheapened further by the frequency with which I use it. For that same reason, it's hard to weed it out of my speech – most of the time I don't even realize I'm saying it. There are little elements in a person's life, minor fibers that become unintentionally tangled with your personality. Sometimes it's a patent phrase, sometimes it's a perfume, sometimes it's a wristwatch. For me, it is the constant referencing of ponies.

I don't even like ponies. If I made one of my throwaway equine requests and someone produced an actual pony, Juan-Valdez-style, I would run very fast in the other direction. During a few summers at camp, I rode a chronically dehydrated pony named Brandy who would jolt down without notice to lick the grass outside the corral and I would careen forward, my helmet tipping to cover my eyes. I do, however, like ponies on the abstract. Who doesn't? It's like those movies with the animated insects. Sure, the baby cockroach seems cute with CGI eyelashes, but how would you feel about fifty of her real-life counterparts living in your oven? And that's precisely the manner in which the ponies clomped their way into ~ Sloane Crosley

My biggest Buff Orpinton rooster is on the small corral fence letting the world know he is in charge, all puffed up and sassy. There is nothing more silly than a rooster taking over the world, but every day he things he can. I wonder if we are just a little part of the world, like that rooster, and that the real things go on around us while we strut in our own yards trying to take charge of things. ~ Nancy E. Turner

I must have been a really tough kid to corral. I got disciplined quite frequently. I guess that would be the best way to say it. The rod, I wore out the rod. You know, Spare the rod and spoil the child? Well, I wore out the rod. ~ Terry Bradshaw

And so as a director, as a leader, and myself as a director and a leader, I kind of try to make sure that we hold onto the vision and kind of corral it, but by the time you finish whatever the project is, a TV show, a series, a movie, a stage show, it should be a product of what all those people can do, and therefore, it can never be what you imagined it would be in the beginning. ~ Brian Henson

Star had Comet haltered and out of his corral, his lead rope tied to the top rail of the fence, and she was raking out the manure and small stones with amazing care, so that no square inch of dirt was left ungroomed. She had just led him out and tied him to the rail. She made it look so easy. Was it really so easy? Every time she had been here working, I'd stayed close and watched ~ Catherine Ryan Hyde

When the bullhorn signaled that he'd met the qualifying time,he struggled to gather his wits,waiting until Devil was right alongside the gate before he freed his hand,cutting himself loose. He flew through the air and over the corral fence,landing in the dirt at Marilee Trainor's feet.
"My God! Don't move." She was beside him in the blink of an eye,kneeling in the dirt,probing for broken bones.
Wyatt lay perfectly still,enjoying the feel of those clever, practiced hands moving over him.When she moved from his legs to his torso and arms,he opened his eyes to narrow slits and watched her from beneath lowered lids.
She was the perfect combination of beauty and brains.He could see the wheels turning as she did a thorough exam.Even her brow,furrowed in concentration,couldn't mar that flawless complexion. Her eyes, the color of the palest milk chocolate, were narrowed in thought.Strands of red hair dipped over one cheek, giving her a sultry look.
Satisfied that nothing was broken, she sat back on her heels,feeling a moment of giddy relief. That was when she realized that he was staring.
She waved a hand before his eyes. "How many fingers can you see?"
"Four fingers and a thumb. Or should I say four beautiful,long,slender fingers and one perfect thumb,connected to one perfect arm of one perfectly gorgeous female? And,I'm happy to add,there's no ring on the third finger of that hand."
She caught the smug little grin on his lips. Her tone hardened. " ~ R.C. Ryan

I think it would be a shame for any writer to let their publishers in any way corral them into a single genre. ~ Emma Donoghue

Augustus Waters," she said. "Um, maybe?" "Oh, my God. I've seen him at parties. The things I would do to that boy. I mean, not now that I know you're interested in him. But, oh, sweet holy Lord, I would ride that one-legged pony all the way around the corral." "Kaitlyn," I said. "Sorry. Do you think you'd have to be on top?" "Kaitlyn," I said. ~ John Green

The gunfight at the O.K. Corral took place on October 26, 1881. It took about thirty seconds to write a chapter in American history that will never be forgotten. ~ Bill O'Reilly

I already had a feeling I was screwed, seeing I was in sacrificial virgin attire and in a corral. But now I was thinking I was way screwed. My attention focused back on her when she went on to say in a dire tone, The Wife Hunt. ~ Kristen Ashley

and heading for the next, running the first horse into the second corral, throwing the saddle on the next bronc and then heading down the line to the next place and the next until winding up back at the first place just about at ~ Molly Gloss

A destructive or creative state of psychological madness must trace itself to a source. By finding the source of their misery, a person might be able to corral the crazy desire prematurely to terminate their existence. An old saying suggests that self-hatred is the central cause of all self-destructive actions. Self-hate might consist of anger that we harbor towards other people who maltreated us. Repressed anger and pent-up hostility that we retain against other people that has no viable direct escape hatch can reflect and turn inward against ourselves. Perhaps we regret that we allowed other people to demean us, or rue that we lacked a protective level of self-esteem to begin with. ~ Kilroy J. Oldster

'Mustanging' was like trout fishing. It is always the big ones that get away. When you did get a bunch of them into a corral, you found they did not look half so large and handsome as when they were first sighted on the prairie. ~ Will C. Barnes

The powers that be are trying to meld, shape, and corral the culture of hip-hop into another speaking voice for the government. ~ Chuck D

Becks had a pistol in either hand, making her look like an illustration from some fucked-up pre-Rising horror/Western. Showdown at the Decay Corral or something. ~ Mira Grant

The world needs only a few geniuses; civilization is maintained and extended by those lesser souls who corral the men of greatness, tie them down with explanations and footnotes and annotated editions, explain what they meant when they didn't know themselves, show their true place in the awesome progression of mankind. ~ Iain Pears

If you're fixin' to get yourself a good stallion, don't go lookin' in the donkey corral. ~ Ciji Ware

By all the rules of modern fiction there should have been gunsmoke mingling its acrid blue with the brown haze of corral dust. Dead men should have fallen and been trampled ...
Nothing of this sort happened. ~ B.M. Bower

While the business of "collecting" lyrics and melodies happens all the time, when it's time to corral them all into something, I have to be in a good mood, ready and willing to work. ~ Wooden Wand

Once a man offered me his heart and I said no. Not because I didn't love him. Not because he was a beast or white - I couldn't love him. Do you understand? In bed while we slept, our bodies inches apart, the dark between our flesh a wick. It was burning down. And he couldn't feel it. ~ Eduardo C. Corral

You have driven me from the East to this place, and I have been here two thousand years or more ... My friends, if you took me away from this land it would be very hard for me. I wish to die in this land. I wish to be an old man here ... I have not wished to give even a part of it to the Great Father. Though he would give me a million dollars or more I would not give to him this land ... When people want to slaughter cattle they drive them along until they get them to a corral, and then they slaughter them. So it was with us ... My children have been exterminated; my brother has been killed. ~ Standing Bear

The introduction of cinematography enabled us to corral time past and thus retain it not merely in the memory - at best, a falsifying receptacle - but in the objective preservative of a roll of film. But, if past, present and future are the dimensions of time, they are notoriously fluid. There is no tension in the tenses and yet they are always tremulously about to coagulate. The present is a liquid jelly which settles into a quivering, passive mass, the past, as soon as - if not sooner than - we are aware of it as present. Yet this mass was intangible and existed only conceptually until arrival of the preservative, cinema.
The motion picture is usually regarded as only a kind of shadow play and few bother to probe the ontological paradoxes it presents. For it offers us nothing less than the present tense experience of time irrefutably past. So that the coil of film has, as it were, lassoed inert phenomena from which the present had departed, and when projected upon a screen, they are granted a temporary revivification.
[...]
The images of cinematography, however, altogether lack autonomy. Locking in programmed patterns, they merely transpose time past into time present and cannot, by their nature, respond to the magnetic impulses of time future for the unachievable future which does not exist in any dimension, but nevertheless organizes phenomena towards its potential conclusions. The cinematographic model is one of cyclic recurrences alone, even if these recu ~ Angela Carter

Only the previous day, Arch had found him in a spirit-dance corral, blistering the creatures to the point of death, such was his need to touch and destroy. ~ Frank Beddor

PANOTII LOOKS PUT OUT ABOUT BEING LEFT BEHIND AND dogs my steps as I stow his tack under the deep overhang on the south side of the wizard's hovel. There's plenty of grass here, water at the lake, and it's not that cold yet, despite the shift in seasons. If the rains start before we get back, the horses can take shelter under the overhang. I'm not worried about them wandering off. Not one of them has stepped outside of the large makeshift corral of God Bolt pits since we got here.

"You can't come with us," I tell him. "It'll be cold and slippery. And big monsters will want to eat you." He tosses his head, snorting. "Really big monsters. There might be Dragons. And the Hydra. And I can't vouch for the friendliness of the Ipotane toward regular horses." I blow gently into his nose. Panotii chuffs back. "You'll be safe here, and if anyone tries to steal you, Grandpa Zeus will throw down a thunderbolt. Boom! No more horse thief."

"Zeus may have better things to do than babysit our horses," Flynn says, stowing his own equine gear next to mine.

I glance northward toward the Gods' mountain home and speak loudly. "In that case, I'm announcing right now that I'll make an Olympian stink if anything happens to my horse." Flynn looks nervous and moves away from me like he's expecting a God Bolt to come thundering down.

"She's not kidding." Sunlight glints off Griffin's windblown hair. Thick black stubble darkens his jaw. He flashes me a smi ~ Amanda Bouchet

Then he took my arm, in a much softer grip than the one he'd used on our first date when he'd kept me from biting the dust. "No, c'mon," he said, pulling me closer to him and securing his arms around my waist. I died a thousand deaths as he whispered softly, "What's wrong?"
What could I possibly say? Oh, nothing, it's just that I've been slowly breaking up with my boyfriend from California and I uninvited him to my brother's wedding last week and I thought everything was fine and then he called last night after I got home from cooking you that Linguine and Clam Sauce you loved so much and he said he was flying here today and I told him not to because there really wasn't anything else we could possibly talk about and I thought he understood and while I was driving out here just now he called me and it just so happens he's at the airport right now but I decided not to go because I didn't want to have a big emotional drama (you mean like the one you're playing out in Marlboro Man's kitchen right now?) and I'm finding myself vacillating between sadness over the end of our four-year relationship, regret over not going to see him in person, and confusion over how to feel about my upcoming move to Chicago. And where that will leave you and me, you big hunk of burning love.
"I ran over my dog today!" I blubbered and collapsed into another heap of impossible-to-corral tears. Marlboro Man was embracing me tightly now, knowing full well that his arms were the only offering he ~ Ree Drummond

Time is invisible. Unlike weight.
Ah, but maybe that wasn't true. You could feel weight, yes--when you were carrying too much, it made you ploddy--but wasn't it, like time, basically just a human construct? Hands on a clock, numbers on a bathroom scale, weren't they only ways of trying to measure invisible forces that had visible effects? A feeble effort to corral some greater reality beyond what mere humans thought of as reality? ~ Stephen King

He could guide anyone to the point of no return. He'd corral them with poetry, music, invoking the alcoholic gods that all died young. But we were so young, we didn't know we had anything we would miss. ~ Hannah Lillith Assadi

Here's a story that I really want to tell about Bo Diddley at the OK corral. ~ Warren Zevon

For five weeks, the Associated Press had provided the world with lurid coverage of the attack on Virgil Earp, which was labeled Cow Boy revenge for what was being called "the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral" because it took too long to set the type for "Gunfight in the Vacant Lot behind Camillus Fly's Photography Studio Near Fremont Street. ~ Mary Doria Russell

In paintings, music, poetry, architecture, we feel the elusive energy that moves through us and the air and the ground all the time, that usually disperses and turns chaotic in our busy-ness and distractedness and moodiness. Artists channel it, corral it, make it visible to the rest of us. The best works of art are like semaphores of our experience, signaling what we didn't know was true but do now. ~ Anne Lamott

The heart can only be broken / once, like a window. ~ Eduardo C. Corral

If someone says, "You can make it!" down a vertical mountain when you don't ski very well, think about it before launching. This can be a turning point in your life. It sure was in mine when I slammed into the mountain.
I wish I'd said, "F'getabout it, sucka," and gone to the Kiddie Corral. Would have saved a lot of pain and surgery.
Think about this. What are you really up for? Is the thrill worth the cost? ~ Sandy Nathan

The Stone Table [was] a place that served as the OK Corral for the Faerie Courts when they decided to engage in diplomacy by means of murdering anyone on the other team. ~ Jim Butcher

She forks up a little nibble and wedges it in her mouth. "Yum," she croaks.
Mrs. Wong looks pleased. "It's made with tofu."
I can't resist. "Free-range tofu?"
My mother looks over at me sharply.
Mrs. Wong takes the bait. "Now, Cassidy, tofu isn't an animal," she chides. "It's soy bean curd. Soy bean curd doesn't need to roam free."
On the floor below me, Emma lets out a little snort. I nudge her again with my foot. We're both grinning at the thought of a corral somewhere with little cubes of tofu wandering around. "Home, home on the range," I sing to her under my breath. "Where the deer and the tofu roam free ... ~ Heather Vogel Frederick

But, oh, sweet holy Lord, I would ride that one-legged pony all the way around the corral. ~ John Green

Sturmhond back into the corridors. As their footfalls faded, silence descended. Wylan cleared his throat and the sound bounced around the blue-tiled room like a spring colt let loose in a corral. Genya's face was bemused. Zoya crossed her arms.
"Well?" "Ma'am …" Wylan attempted. "Miss Genya - "
Genya smiled, her scars tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Oh, he is sweet."
"You always take to the strays," said Zoya sourly. ~ Leigh Bardugo