Gorrono Ranch Quotes

December 16, 1846, the fifteen composing the "Forlorn Hope," left Donner Lake. January 17, 1847, as they reached Johnson's ranch; and February 5th Capt. Tucker's party started to the assistance of the emigrants. This first relief arrived February 19th at the cabins; the second relief, or Reed's party, arrived March 1st; the third, or Foster's, about the middle of March; and the fourth, or Fallon's, on the seventeenth of April. Upon the arrival of Capt. Fallon's company, the sight presented at the cabins beggars all description. Capt. R. P. Tucker, now of Goleta, Santa Barbara County, Cal., endeavors, in his correspondence, to give a slight idea of the scene. ~ C.F. McGlashan

I am just like my mother. She raised me to love and take care of animals, especially the ones that need it the most and so I started Eddie's Rescue Ranch. We take in animals that need extra care and attention and the animals that get left behind. ~ Kelly Clarkson

If I was not racing then I would own a ranch where people could come and hunt. It would be fun and laid back every day. ~ Austin Dillon

I grew up driving old pickup trucks on the ranch with my dad, and I still always find myself driving like I'm out in an open field, except I'm in LA on La Cienega in the middle of rush-hour traffic. ~ Amber Heard

The tree burst into color and we all gasped at the red, yellow, green, white and the blue lights boldly growing in the cold night, the only lights for miles around in the inmense darkness of the range. ~ Jeannette Walls

I still remember "the mighty Cros" visiting the ranch in his van. That van was a rolling laboratory that made Jack Casady's briefcase look like chicken feed. Forget I said that! Was my mic on? ~ Neil Young

Harrison smirked. Zane had managed to go off to New York City and find someone who would have fit in on the ranch almost seamlessly. And it was obvious, even if they were trying to be subtle, that the two of them were very much in love. Harrison had never known the feeling, but he'd seen it often enough to recognize it. Zane ~ Abigail Roux

...On their first day in the new house, Addams had gotten up in the dark. From the surrounding swamp came bloodcurdling screams - the sound of possums mating, Tee later speculated, though it was perhaps a fisher, the dark-colored marten who stalked the wetlands, rooting rabbits from their nests. Addams returned to bed. "Someone is murdering babies in the swamp," he said. "Oh darling," came the sleepy reply from the pillows, "I forgot to tell you about the neighbors."

"All my life I wanted to live in one of those Addams Family houses, but I've never achieved that," Addams had recently told a reporter. "I do my best to add little touches," he said. ...Still, he conceded, "it's hard to convert a ranch-type house into a Victorian monster." ~ Linda H. Davis

Milch had a bigger cast, a bigger set (on the Melody Ranch studio, where Gene Autry had filmed very different Westerns decades earlier), and more creative freedom than he'd ever had before. There were no advertisers to answer to, and HBO was far more hands-off than the executives at NBC or ABC had been. And as a result, there was even less pretense of planning than there had been on NYPD Blue, and more improvisation. There were scripts for the first four episodes of Season 1, and after that, most of the series was written on the fly, with the cast and crew often not learning what they would be doing until the day before (if that). As Jody Worth recalls, the Deadwood writers would gather each morning for a long conversation: "We would talk about where we were going in the episode, and a lot of talk that had nothing to do with anything, a lot of Professor Milch talk, all over the map talk, which I enjoyed." Out of those daily conversations came the decisions on what scenes to write that day, to be filmed the day after. There was no system to it, no order, and the actors would be given scenes completely out of context from the rest of the episode. ~ Alan Sepinwall

It shouldn't make a difference to me, I suppose,but it does. I've grown to trust you, and I'd hate to think that I've been wrong about you."
"Well,it's real nice to hear you like me, Freckles," he teased. "I kind of like you,too." He wiggled his eyebrows as he had earlier.
Willow laughed and leaned over to swat at him but missed. "You know, I really don't have freckles. Why don't you call me Williw like everyone else does?"
"Maybe, because everyone else does." He shrugged. "Freckles is mine. My special name for you, that is. And you do have freckles, cute little ginger-colored freckles, all-l-l aross the bridge of your nose."
"I don't!" Her mouth twisted in annoyance.
"Tell you what, we'll race on it. You win-you don't have freckles. I win-you do have freckles."
Knowing her only chance to beat his big stallion was to get a head start, Willow didn't waste time agreeing to ny terms. She dug her heels into Sugar's sides and tore off across the desert.
"Hey!" Rider called, laughing and spurring Sultan into a run. "You're supposed to wait till I say go."
Her laugh drifted back on the wind.
"Come on,Sultan. Let's show Miss Freckle Britches who she's dealing with."
The spirited stallion's legs stretched out ith effortless grace, his body lowering in a ground-eating pace, and Willow's little mare was no match for the big stallion.
"See you back at the ranch, Freckles," Rider laughingly taunted as he rode past. ~ Charlotte McPherren

The night sky is filled brimful as a night sky can be, lit brightly as it is with clusters of planets and pulsating stars and marriages of galaxies, all of it within a wobble of dust and gas and debris unseen. There are the Dippers Little and Big tonight, a lovely Pleiades, and a throbbing red star out like a tiny heart. This is the stuff of which we are made, I say to Son, all that is of us above us. We stand together looking upward, our mouths hung open as if to swallow what's above down and into us. Looking out at the past in its far distance, where from there, he we are not. ~ Susan Froderberg

Ward, do you think we'll have time to ride this afternoon? I'd love to go over some of the old trails with you," Erica asked, smiling at him over the assortment of pastries and wedding cake in the lodge's dining room.
Ward fought the urge to growl his reply that he had an even better idea. He'd love to stuff her into Ralph Cummins's taxi, slam the door, and instruct Ralph to hit the gas and not slow down until he reached Palo Alto, where Erica was currently living. Once the taxi was out of sight, he'd go down to the bottom of the road to Silver Creek Ranch and lock the gates. With a padlock.
Instead, he shoveled in a forkful of the wedding cake Roo had baked and pretended not to hear. He'd been doing a lot of that. ~ Laura Moore

I'm a thirty-something ranch wife, mother of four, moderately agoraphobic middle child who grew up on a golf course in the city. ~ Ree Drummond

My father had owned a ranch when he was younger, in Montana, and he remembered riding his horse across the prairie and seeing some large bones sticking out of the ground. He was enough of a geologist, being a sand and gravel man, to have a pretty good notion that they were dinosaur bones. ~ Jack Horner

Zane awakened them both early. By the time Chase stirred, he had both their tents down and was on his third cup of coffee. Phoebe had promised she could act completely normal, but looking at her from across the fire, he wasn't so sure. There was no way anyone could see her dreamy expression and not know something was different.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What? You keep looking at me. I know my makeup can't be smudged. I'm not wearing any."
It didn't matter; she was still beautiful.
"You look different," he told her. "Satisfied?"
Color flared on her cheeks. "You're only saying that because you know the truth."
"Uh-huh."
He doubted that, but maybe she was right. Or maybe the weather would be enough of a distraction to keep everyone from figuring out the truth.
"How long is it going to rain?" she asked as she fingered a pole holding up the canvas sheet they put up to protect the fire and the seating area around it. "It sure got cold and damp in a hurry."
Zane shrugged. "No way to tell. The storm is supposed to hang around for a few days, but maybe it will blow over."
He hoped it would. Traveling in the rain wouldn't be fun for anyone. And he couldn't simply turn them around, head to the ranch and be there in time for lunch. They were at the farthest point from his house. It was a full two-day ride back.
Phoebe finished her coffee. "I'm going to check and see if my things are dry," she said as she stood.
He ~ Susan Mallery

I grew up in Colorado and spent my summers in Montana as a ranch hand. ~ Chris Eigeman

So are there lots of cows?" she asked before she could stop herself. "On the ranch, I mean."
Zane didn't spare her a glance. "Some."
"Like twenty?"
He glanced at her then, before turning his attention back to the road. "We run several thousand head of steers. Those are the ones that end up on your barbecue. I have another few hundred head of cows for breeding purposes."
"No bulls?" she asked, unable to keep from grinning.
He sighed the sigh of the long suffering. "A dozen or so."
"A dozen bulls for a few hundred cows?"
Mr. Hunk-in-a-hat, who had put his hat on the seat between them when he'd climbed into the cab, chuckled. "Yup."
"Yet another example of our patriarchal society ignoring the rights of cows."
"You worried about cows' rights?" He sounded both incredulous and amused. "You a lawyer?"
"No. And I'm not concerned about cows' rights. Of course I want them treated humanely, as any civilized person would, but I'm not crazy."
"What are you, then?"
"What?"
He glanced at her. "If you're not a lawyer, what are you?"
"Oh." For a second she thought he'd been referring to her mental state. "I work in real estate."
Fortunately Zane didn't ask any questions about her career. She didn't think that telling him she'd been suspended for litigation would improve his opinion of her. ~ Susan Mallery

I grew up in Rhodesia on my father's ranch and every year he used to take us on safari in some remote area of the wilderness. ~ Wilbur Smith

I would be happy living on a massive ranch in Montana and not seeing anyone except my friends and family. ~ Nick Frost

I smell panic," said Serge. "These are different animals now. They're starting to winnow out the weak at the fringe of the herd. We need to hurry or this could affect our snack situation. ~ Tim Dorsey

If she wanted to work on the ranch this spring, I'd let her. We'd do this friend thing until then, because once she set foot on the Lucky Heart, I was making her mine. ~ Devney Perry

The way Mom saw it, women should let menfolk do the work because it made them feel more manly. That notion only made sense if you had a strong man willing to step up and get things done, and between Dad's gimp, Buster's elaborate excuses, and Apache's tendency to disappear, it was often up to me to keep the place from falling apart. But even when everyone was pitching in, we never got out from under all the work. I loved that ranch, though sometimes it did seem that instead of us owning the place, the place owned us. ~ Jeannette Walls

The taxi sped down the dirt road, spitting dust clouds into the bright afternoon sunshine. When it stopped in front of a sprawling ranch house surrounded by majestic mountains, Gabriella Gibson caught her breath. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she'd end up on a cattle ranch. ~ Marilyn Shank

Because salvation is by grace through faith, I believe that among the countless number of people standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands (see Revelation 7:9), I shall see the prostitute from the Kit-Kat Ranch in Carson City, Nevada, who tearfully told me that she could find no other employment to support her two-year-old son. I shall see the woman who had an abortion and is haunted by guilt and remorse but did the best she could faced with grueling alternatives; the businessman besieged with debt who sold his integrity in a series of desperate transactions; the insecure clergyman addicted to being liked, who never challenged his people from the pulpit and longed for unconditional love; the sexually abused teen molested by his father and now selling his body on the street, who, as he falls asleep each night after his last 'trick', whispers the name of the unknown God he learned about in Sunday school.

'But how?' we ask.

Then the voice says, 'They have washed their robes and have made them white in the blood of the Lamb.'

There they are. There *we* are - the multitude who so wanted to be faithful, who at times got defeated, soiled by life, and bested by trials, wearing the bloodied garments of life's tribulations, but through it all clung to faith.

My friends, if this is not good news to you, you have never understood the gospel of grace. ~ Brennan Manning

At Equator Ranch a decade before, his debut lambing had turned out only six surviving animals of four thousand ewes. Undaunted, he had burned through more of his inheritance (eighty thousand pounds, some claimed), replaced his stock, learned his hard lessons, and was now the most successful large-scale rancher in all of Kenya. Not ~ Paula McLain

The whole town is a Confederate museum, replied Louis, holding his hands up palm out. I'm not saying your whole town is housist or anything! Housist! Housist was Louis-speak for racist, invoked after Daron tried explaining that just because someone preferred a mansion didn't mean they'd torch a ranch. Housist, Loose? ~ T. Geronimo Johnson

Eventually, I'll build a ranch and raise horses. ~ Jeff Fahey

I have always aspired towards other people's looks. When I was young, I loved teddy boys; I thought they looked wonderful. Then I was a cowboy in Arizona, really for the clothes! I had a ranch for five years; I had chaps made of bearskin. ~ Nicholas Haslam

Well, first of all," he began, "I really…I really like you." He looked into my eyes in a seeming effort to transmit the true meaning of each word straight into my psyche. All muscle tone disappeared from my body.
Marlboro Man was so willing to put himself out there, so unafraid to put forth his true feelings. I simply wasn't used to this. I was used to head games, tactics, apathy, aloofness. When it came to love and romance, I'd developed a rock-solid tolerance for mediocrity. And here, in two short weeks, Marlboro Man had blown it all to kingdom come.
There was nothing mediocre about Marlboro Man.
He had more to say; he didn't even pause to wait for a response. That, in his universe, was what a real man did.
"And…" He hesitated.
I listened. His voice was serious. Focused.
"And I just flat don't want you to leave," he declared, holding me close, resting his chin on my cheek, speaking directly into my ear.
I paused. Took a breath. "Well--" I began.
He interrupted. "I know we've just been doing this for two weeks, and I know you've already made your plans, and I know we don't know what the future holds, but…" He looked at me and cupped my face in his hand, his other hand on my arm.
"I know," I agreed, trying to muster some trite response. "I--"
He broke in again. He had some things to say. "If I didn't have the ranch, it'd be one thing," he said. My pulse quickened. "But I…my life is here."
"I know," I said again. "I wouldn ~ Ree Drummond

When I turned to leave the groom to his work, I saw that D's ranch manager had been watching us. His name was Boy Long, and he was exotic-looking for these parts, with jet-black hair and a single gold hoop in one ear. His particular flair made me think of a pirate. "What's in the tincture?" he wanted to know. "Nothing unusual." He looked me up and down. "I don't believe you, but you can keep your secret." A ~ Paula McLain