Cotton Picking Basket Quotes

It (picking cotton) was like picking a hundred pounds of feathers, a hundred pounds of lint dust. It was one of the most backbreaking forms of stoop labor ever known. ~ Isabel Wilkerson

I took my solo and beat hell out of the skins. Then Spoof swiped at his mouth and let go with a blast and moved it up into that squeal and stopped and started playing. It was all headwork. All new to us.

New to anybody.

I saw Sonny get a look on his face, and we sat still and listened while Spoof made love to that horn.

Now like a scream, now like a laugh - now we're swinging in the trees, now the white men are coming, now we're in the boat and chains are hanging from our ankles and we're rowing, rowing - Spoof, what is it? - now we're sawing wood and picking cotton and serving up those cool cool drinks to the Colonel in his chair - Well, blow, man! - now we're free, and we're struttin' down Lenox Avenue and State & Madison and Pirate's Alley, laughing, crying - Who said free? - and we want to go back and we don't want to go back - Play it, Spoof! God, God, tell us all about it! Talk to us! - and we're sitting in a cellar with a comb wrapped up in paper, with a skin-barrel and a tinklebox - Don't stop, Spoof! Oh Lord, please don't stop! - and we're making something, something, what is it? Is it jazz? Why, yes, Lord, it's jazz. Thank you, sir, and thank you, sir, we finally got it, something that is ours, something great that belongs to us and to us alone, that we made, and that's why it's important and that's what it's all about and - Spoof! Spoof, you can;t stop now --

But it was over, middle of the trip. And there was Spoof st ~ Charles Beaumont

Let me go back to a comfortable analogy for me - sports ... basketball. I use it because you're naive if you don't see the national full-court press picking away right now: A good point guard drives through a full court press, protecting the ball, keeping her eye on the basket ... and she knows exactly when to pass the ball so that the team can WIN. ~ Sarah Palin

That's why you look down on me, because you know I lie. At wakes, at funerals, at weddings - yes, I lie. I lie at wakes and funerals to relieve pain. 'Cause reading, writing, and 'rithmetic is not enough. You think that's all the sent you to school for? They send you to school to relieve pain, to relieve hurt - and if you have to lie to do it, then you lie. You lie and you lie and you lie. When you tell yourself you feeling good when you sick, you lying. When you tell other people you feeling well when you feeling sick, you lying. You tell them that 'cause they have pain too, and you don't want to add yours - and you lie. She been lying every day of her life, your aunt in there. That's how you got through that university - cheating herself here, cheating herself there, but always telling you she's all right. I've seen her hands bleed from picking cotton. I've seen the blisters from the hoe and the cane knife. At that church, crying on her knees. You ever looked at the scabs on her knees, boy? Course you never. 'Cause she never wanted you to see it. And that's the difference between me and you, boy; that make me the educated one, and you the gump. I know my people. I know what they gone through. I know they done cheated themself, lied to themself - hoping that one they all love and trust can come back and help relieve the pain. ~ Ernest J. Gaines

People would ask me how I could stand the long campaigning, how I could stand being charged with the responsibilities of a great nation, one of the most powerful and difficult jobs in the world.
It wasn't any more difficult than picking cotton all day or shaking peanuts. ~ Jimmy Carter

It is the literal, unvarnished truth, that the crack of the lash, and the shrieking of the slaves, can be heard from dark till bed time, on Epps' plantation, any day almost during the entire period of the cotton-picking season. ~ Solomon Northup

As recently as fifty years ago my grandmother was picking cotton with bleeding fingers. I think about her all the time while I'm getting overpaid to sit at a computer, eat Chinese takeout, and think up things in my pajamas, The half century separating my fingers, which are moisturized with cucumber lotion and type eighty words per minute, and her bloody digits is an ordinary Land of Opportunity parable, and don't think I don't appreciate it. ~ Sarah Vowell

Royal joined the singing to change the subject and to remind her that there were things a body could feel good about. A community that had come together, from seeding to harvest to the bee. But the song was a work song Cora knew from the cotton rows, drawing her back to the Randall cruelties and making her heart thud. Connelly used to start the song as a signal to go back to picking after a whipping. how could such a bitter thing become a means of pleasure? ~ Colson Whitehead

The greatest ride in my life was about to come up, a truck, with a flatboard at the back, with about six or seven boys sprawled out on it, and the drivers, two young blond farmers from Minnesota, were picking up every single soul they found on that road - the most smiling, cheerful couple of handsome bumpkins you could ever wish to see, both wearing cotton shirts and overalls, nothing else; both thick-wristed and earnest, with broad howareyou smiles for anybody and anything that came across their path. I ran up, said "Is there room?" They said, "Sure, hop on, 'sroom for everybody." I ~ Jack Kerouac

I started learning my lessons in Abbot Texas, where I was born in 1933. My sister Bobbie and I were raised by our grandparents [ ... ] We never had enough money, and Bobbie and I started working at an early age to help the family get by. That hard work included picking cotton. [ ... ] Picking cotton is hard and painful work, and the most lasting lesson I learned in the fields was that I didn't want to spend my life picking cotton. ~ Willie Nelson

Look at Michelle Obama. Everyone keeps making a big deal about her arms being exposed, but don't get it twisted: her arms are out for a reason. Black women have had those arms forever - lifting, picking cotton, toting and carrying babies. ~ LaTanya Richardson

For every nineteenth-century middle-class family that protected its wife and child within the family circle, there was an Irish ora German girl scrubbing floors in that home, a Welsh boy mining coal to keep the home-baked goodies warm, a black girl doing the family laundry, a black mother and child picking cotton to be made into clothes for the family, and a Jewish or an Italian daughter in a sweatshop making "ladies" dresses or artificial flowers for the family to purchase. ~ Stephanie Coontz

I had been born and mostly raised in the South, so I ought to have been able to find a way to reach him. Southern girls are trained from birth up that the way to a man's heart is never through the front door. They may leave a basket of cookies there, and while he's busy picking them up, they're squirming in through a back window. ~ Joshilyn Jackson

A small grove of linden trees grew on the far side of the lake, below the palace. Dortchen made her way there carefully, not wanting to be seen so close to the King's residence. The trees were in full blossom, bees reeling drunkenly from the pale-yellow flowers that hung down in clusters below the heart-shaped leaves. Dortchen harvested what she could reach, breathing the sweet scent deeply, then picked handfuls of the wild roses that grew in a tangled hedge along the path. She would crystallise the petals with sugar when she got home, or make rose water to sell in her father's shop.
She plucked some dandelions she found growing wild in a clearing, and then some meadowsweet, and at last reached the ancient old oak tree she knew from her last foray into the royal park. Here she found handfuls of the sparse grey moss, and she hid it deep within her basket, beneath the flowers and herbs and leaves. ~ Kate Forsyth

She lay stretched out on the floorboards with her hands under her head and her eyes closed. Sun blazing down, bit of a breeze, water nice and lively. I noticed a scratch on her thigh and asked her how she came by it. Picking gooseberries, she said. I said again I thought it was hopeless and no good going on, and she agreed, without opening her eyes. (Pause.) I asked her to look at me and after a few moments
(pause)
after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in. (Pause.) We drifted in among the flags and stuck. The way they went down, sighing, before the stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side. ~ Samuel Beckett

Here I am, struggling to banish any foolish imagined affections for you so that I can consummate this marriage of convenience in a proper businesslike fashion, as we agreed. And then you go and read a book?
While he was at it, why didn't he just bring her a basket of kittens, a bottle of champagne, and pose naked with a rose caught between his teeth?
-Maddie ~ Tessa Dare

But these factory people, who on earth wears cotton that can afford linen? ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

Phury lit a blunt and eyed the sixteen cans of Aqua Net that were lined up on Butch and V's coffee table.
"What's doing with the hair spray? You boys going drag on us?"
Butch held up the lenght of PVC pipe he was punching a hole in.
"Potato launcher, my man. Big fun."
"Excuse me ?"
"Didn't you ever go to summer camp ?"
"Basket weaving and woodcarving are for humans. No offense, but we have better things to teach our youngs. ~ J.R. Ward

They put their animals to the ford and crossed, the water up under the horses' bellies and the horses picking their way over the rocks and glancing wildly upstream where a cataract thundered out of the darkening forest into the flecked and seething pool below. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Dost thou love picking meat? Or wouldst thou see
A man in the clouds, and have him speak to thee? ~ John Bunyan

She found Mark curled up at the foot of her bed, reading a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. He was wearing a pair of cotton pajamas that Emma had bought for three dollars from a vendor on the side of the PCH. He was partial to them as being oddly close in their loose, light material to the sort of trousers he'd worn in Faerie. If it bothered him that they also had a pattern of green shamrocks embroided with the words GET LUCKY on them, he didn't show it. ~ Cassandra Clare

I give myself the luxury of time in shaping a song. It's very common for me to work three months or more on a single song. Plotting takes time and effort, for there are many false turns. I fill up pages and pages with my mistakes, thereby eliminating them. Eventually a trail is broken through this mountain of mistakes. Sometimes it's as easy as putting eggs in a basket; other times it's like trying to pound a ton of sand into a diamond. ~ David Massengill

I grew up hard. I picked cotton and plowed with the mule and fixed the cars and played with the guitar and the piano. ~ Pinetop Perkins

It's like he's picking up parts of the world and showing them to me, saying, See? It's beautiful. ~ Cath Crowley

Too often we rely on our eyes to see. ~ Tommy Cotton

Pick your battles," she muttered in her ear.
"I am! I'm picking this one! I'm picking all of them! ~ Lauren James

The arrow increased without motion, then in a quick swirl the trout lipped a fly beneath the surface with that sort of gigantic delicacy of an elephant picking up a peanut. ~ William Faulkner

Another most interesting change in the ideas and philosophy of science
brought about by quantum mechanics is this: it is not possible to predict exactly
what will happen in any circumstance. For example, it is possible to arrange an
atom which is ready to emit light, and we can measure when it has emitted light
by picking up a photon particle, which we shall describe shortly. We cannot,
however, predict when it is going to emit the light or, with several atoms, which
one is going to. You may say that this is because there are some internal "wheels"
which we have not looked at closely enough. No, there are no internal wheels;
nature, as we understand it today, behaves in such a way that it is fundamentally
impossible to make a precise prediction of exactly what will happen in a given
experiment. ~ Richard P. Feynman

I hate the small looking-glass on the stairs," said Jinny. "It shows our heads only; it cuts off our heads...So I skip up the stairs past them, to the next landing, where the long glass hangs, and I see myself entire. I see my body and head in one now; for even in this serge frock they are one, my body and my head. Look, when I move my head I ripple all down my narrow body; even my thin legs rippled like a stalk in the wind. I flicker between the set face of Susan and Rhoda's vagueness; I leap like one of those flames that run between the cracks of the earth; I move, I dance, I never cease to move and dance. I move like the leaf that moved in the hedge as a child and frightened me. i dance over these streaked, these impersonal, distempered walls with their yellow skirting as firelight dances over teapots. i catch fire even from women's cold eyes. when I read, a purple rim runs around the black edge of the textbook. yet I cannot follow any word through its changes. I cannot follow any thought from present to past. I do not stand lost, like Susan, with tears in my eyes remembering home; or lie, like Rhoda, crumpled among the ferns, staining my pink cotton green, while I dream of plants that flower under the sea, and rocks through which the fish swim slowly. I do not dream. ~ Virginia Woolf

O, they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. ~ William Shakespeare

Unfortunately, you don't get to choose family, Sonny had told me once. But you do get to choose everyone else. In this case, I was cherry picking who I was going to spend the gift of my life with. ~ Mariana Zapata

We're a people at war,' she began, voice loud and clear. 'We're constantly attacked - but not just by Strigoi. By one another. We're divided. We fight with one another. Family against family. Royal against non-royal. Moroi against dhampir. Of course the Strigoi are picking us off. They're at least united behind a goal: killing.'
[ ... ]
'We are one people,' she continued. 'Moroi and dhampir alike.' Yeah, that got some gasps too. 'And while it's impossible for every single person to get their way, no one will get anything done if we don't come together and find ways to meet in the middle - even if it means making hard choices.'
[ ... ]
We've kept magic alongside technology. We conduct these sessions with scrolls and - with these.' She smiled and tapped her microphone. 'That's how we have survived. We hold onto our That's how we have survived. That's how we will survive. ~ Richelle Mead

The blacks have their parties, hustle a little liquor, get some things together, and I used to play for those peoples. They'd come get me on time, but they wouldn't bring me back on time ... Done picked cotton all day, play all night long, then pick cotton all day the next day before I could get a chance to sleep. ~ Muddy Waters

I'm happy to entertain kids you know. It's my biggest pleasure to like see a twelve year old picking up a book that I did and dreaming about being a comic book artist. That's what the magic is, everything else is just production and a job. ~ Marko Djurdjevic

The way defences are operating these days, the other team'starts picking you up when you walk out of the hotel lobby. ~ Doc Hayes

If you start picking up other people's impressions while you are meditating, then instead of clearing yourself, you are just going to completely glom yourself up to the point where there is no meditation. ~ Frederick Lenz

Jamal Crawford reminds me the most of myself, the way he goes to the basket. But they need leadership. ~ Earl Monroe

Alright. So how are we getting down there? Can you turn invisible or something?"

"What do I look like? A magician?"

"Well, can you fight?"

"Can you?"

"No," said Thalcu with a sad laugh. "Zonbiri women aren't allowed to handle anything bigger than a butter knife. Not legally, anyway. Besides, I could never shoot a gun. My hands are used to pushing remote control buttons, pounding game controllers . . . picking the good chips from the bag. ~ Ash Gray

He looks gorgeous, too, the fucker. The lights are picking up and reflecting the whiteness of his teeth and making his hair look extra shiny. I see myself in the mirror that runs along the back of the bar. My hair is doing that defeated thing and my teeth are the white of an average person. ~ Cath Crowley

Bits and pieces flung into the universe, sticking in the sky like cotton balls on a jet black velcro surface. ~ Bradley Chicho

After graduating from flares and platforms in the early 1970s, I started drama school wearing a pair of khaki dungarees with one of my Dad's Army shirts, accessorised by a cat's basket doubling as a handbag. Very Lady Gaga. ~ Jenny Eclair

Who's the fifth?"
I'm surprised he's been keeping count. "John Ambrose McClaren."
Peter's eyes widen. "McClaren? When did you like him?"
"Eighth grade."
"I thought you liked me in eighth grade!"
"There may have been a little bit of overlap," I admit. Stirring my straw, I say, "There was this one time, in gym…he and I had to pick up all the soccer balls, and it started to rain…" I sigh. "It was probably the most romantic thing that ever happened to me."
"What is it with girls and rain?" Peter wonders.
"I don't know…I guess maybe because everything feels more dramatic in the rain," I say with a shrug.
"Did anything actually happen with you two, or were you just standing out in the rain picking up soccer balls?"
"You wouldn't understand." Someone like Peter could never understand. ~ Jenny Han

You know what the great thing about babies is? They are like little bundles of hope. Like the future in a basket. ~ Lish McBride

In the 18th century, James Hargreaves invented the Spinning Jenny, and Richard Arkwright pioneered the water-propelled spinning frame which led to the mass production of cotton. This was truly revolutionary. The cotton manufacturers created a whole new class of people - the urban proletariat. The structure of society itself would never be the same. ~ A. N. Wilson

absence
looks like a lake bed flooded with sky
sounds like cotton howling
tastes like tear-stained pillows
smells like churning bile and burnt hair
feels like screaming agony, my heart dying and dying ~ Beth Morey

Picking the midpoint between two sides, no matter how extreme one of them is, isn't balanced. It's false equivalence. ~ Hillary Rodham Clinton