Long Weekend Gone Quotes & Sayings
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Top Long Weekend Gone Quotes

After that, things happened very quickly. She gave me a key to her house, and I gave her a key to my apartment. If we were in town, we spent every weekend together. She cooked for me - she was good in the kitchen, but then she was good everywhere. We watched the Friday night fights on TV, and on Saturday or Sunday afternoons we'd go for long walks in the mountains above Malibu. Occasionally we would go to a movie, slipping in after the lights went down. Whenever we went out, Barbara [Stanwyck] would wear a scarf over her head, or a kind of hat, so it would be hard to tell who she was. For the next four years, we became part of each other's lives. In a very real way, I think we still are. Barbara proved to be one of the most marvelous relationships of my life. I was twenty-two, she was forty-five, but our ages were beside the point. She was everything to me - a beautiful woman with a great sense of humor and enormous accomplishments to her name. — Robert Wagner

Aw, my girl misses her family. "Now that we're dating, come with me to dinner at my folks' house on the weekend." She laughs. "Blake, seriously? You're heading out on a week-long road trip, where I'll bet you'd rather be single." "Nope. I'm going to text you every night. You'll see." "We're not dating," she says. Except she's cuddling me with her entire naked body and stroking my chest lovingly with one hand. "Want to eat ice cream in bed?" I ask. "Yeah," she sighs, the arch of her foot stroking mine. Silly Jessie. We are dating. She just doesn't know it yet. — Sarina Bowen

Most of what presents itself to us in the marketplace as a product is in truth a web of relationships, between people, yes, but also between ourselves and all the other species on which we still depend. Eating and drinking especially implicate us in the natural world in ways that the industrial economy, with its long and illegible supply chains, would have us forget. The beer in that bottle, I'm reminded as soon as I brew it myself, ultimately comes not from a factory but from nature - from a field of barley snapping in the wind, from a hops vine clambering over a trellis, from a host of invisible microbes feasting on sugars. It took the carefully orchestrated collaboration of three far-flung taxonomic kingdoms - plants, animals, and fungi - to produce that ale. To make it yourself once in a while, to handle the barley and inhale the aroma of hops and yeast, becomes, among other things, a form of observance, a weekend ritual of remembrance. — Michael Pollan

One of the best moments I've ever had in New Orleans is seeing Bourbon Street filled on a weekend night not long ago. Just watching the city breathe again. — Ray Nagin

On the Eighth Day Adam Slept Alone
It must have been
the eighth day.
A day the scribes and Pharisees conveniently
left out.
Adam was either inspecting goats
or naming the birds
when something pinched
my side.
I had to stop pruning the tree of knowledge
to catch my breath.
God had taken a long weekend.
At first I thought the solitude of gardening
was going to my head.
Was it loneliness?
An omen? A vision?
For a moment I thought I would
ascend.
Then I realized it was just a rib
missing.
How you found your way in
along the banks of the third river
I will never know
but I still shiver to recall
how perfectly your fingers
fell into place
along the ridges
of my ribcage.
Go ahead, Love,
take every last bone.
Make of me
what you will. — Nancy Boutilier

The hardest part about writing fiction is finding long stretches of time to do it: for me, this means writing mostly on Saturdays and Sundays. But I am always thinking about my characters, jotting down ideas in stolen moments and hoping I'll be able to make sense of them when the weekend rolls around. — J. Courtney Sullivan

The weekend brought good news for our friends in the cattle industry. At long last, Japan has taken the steps needed for American beef to make its way back into the Japanese market. — Randy Neugebauer

In a weekend-long lingual-legal rage, I composed a heartless, fearless, terrifying work of negation that burdened every person save myself with every conceivable responsibility and loss and risk, that in every instance unfairly and unlimitedly and gratuitously and disproportionately favored me at the expense of the world and, most repellently of all, that withheld the basic hospitality of writing: my disclaimer, as completed, was a graphic monstrosity, a cruelly rambling, almost agrammatical near-balderdash of baffling dependent clauses and ultra-boring, ultra-technical phraseology that enveloped the reader in a dingy, alien, almost unbreathable word-atmosphere offering barely a vent of punctuation, indentation, or line breakage. — Joseph O'Neill

Many people, after spending a long weekend being stealthily seduced by this grand dame of the South, mistakenly think that they have gotten to know her: they believe (in error) that after a long stroll amongst the rustling palmettoes and gas lamps, a couple of sumptuous meals, and a tour or two, that they have discovered everything there is to know about this seemingly genteel, elegant city. But like any great seductress, Charleston presents a careful veneer of half-truths and outright fabrications, and it lets you, the intended conquest, fill in many of the blanks. Seduction, after all, is not true love, nor is it a gentle act. She whispers stories spun from sugar about pirates and patriots and rebels, about plantations and traditions and manners and yes, even ghosts; but the entire time she is guarded about the real story. Few tourists ever hear the truth, because at the dark heart of Charleston is a winding tale of violence, tragedy and, most of all, sin. — James Caskey

We keep grinning 'til the weekend comes, just a pinch between your cheek and gum, all night long. — Joe Walsh

Peter's gone away on his training weekend. It's only been one day and I'm already longing for him the way I long for Christmas in July. Peter is my cocoa in a cup, my red mittens, my Christmas morning feeling. He — Jenny Han

I tried not to think of Uncle Ray as being gone forever. I just liked to imagine him on one really long Lost Weekend. — Lisa Lutz

It hasn't been just a weekend for me, Wilson. I've wanted you for so long. I fought off the thoughts every day, exhausting every option to keep you off my mind; I can't do it anymore. I want you right here. — Gretchen De La O

Nobody wants to give up a weekend-long excuse to dress up and attempt to outshine one another. — Elizabeth Eulberg

Graham Greene famously said that all writers need a chip of ice in their heart; Cusk can come across as the most beautiful ice palace of stalactites and stalagmites, and some people find her company, albeit by proxy, about as inviting as a long weekend in a walk-in frigidaire. — Julie Burchill

I hate procrastinating, so much so that I often do my homework on Friday so it won't be hanging over my head all weekend long. The good
thing is, my (nonexistent) social life doesn't usually interfere with this quirk of mine. — Kim Harrington