Radio South Quotes & Sayings

On her first day in Musan, a policeman picked her out of the crowd. "Hey, you," he yelled at her. After more than two years of living in China, Oak-hee was pale and plump. She used scented shampoo and soap. She looked and smelled different from everyone else. Furthermore, she was also carrying a transistor radio she had purchased in China that picked up South Korean programs. The police officer confiscated the radio and (after asking her to show him the frequencies for South Korean radio and demanding her earphones) turned her over to the Bowibu. — Barbara Demick

Or there are the non-forgiveness stories like Breaking Bad and Crime and Punishment, where there is no such thing as 'getting away with it.' I heard a real-life version of this recently. On the radio show Snap Judgment, Robert Davis, an ex-police officer in New Orleans, tells his story. A crooked cop in the late 1970s, he lists several occasions where he bartered with people to get out of their arrests. When an internal affairs charge was made against him, he was warned that there would be a sting operation, so he ran. Knowing that he could be tracked down in another city, and that any phone calls to his family would be bugged, he became a fugitive living in the woods. I distinctly remember looking at the stars and seeing a plane flying south and thinking about siblings I had left behind. — Anonymous

If I weren't playing baseball, I would be a radio or sports broadcaster. In college at South Carolina I did some stuff with the radio station and really liked it. — Brian Roberts

Wherefore a monk's whole attention should thus be fixed on one point, and the rise and circle of all his thoughts be vigorously restricted to it; viz., to the recollection of God, as when a man, who is anxious to raise on high a vault of a round arch, must constantly draw a line round from its exact centre, and in accordance with the sure standard it gives discover by the laws of building all the evenness and roundness required ... — John Cassian

Everybody wished to confess, not to admit anything. The sins they remembered, before the end of the world, were general rather than particular. Nobody even knew how to tell the time. Banks of computers around the planet were predicted to crash when the end of the millennium arrived. All the machinery dependent on electronic calculation would go: jumbo jets and atomic power plants, satellites and radio stations, nuclear submarines beneath the ice caps and the stock exchange in New York. Each sin demanded to be told to its full extent before the day arrived. The culprits counted them out one after the other, arriving at a total just as if they were finding the sums of the cents in their hands. But there was no simple way to measure sin. — Imraan Coovadia

Dear America,
I suppose we should introduce ourselves: We're South Louisiana ... You probably already know that we talk funny and listen to strange music and eat things you'd probably hire an exterminator to get out of your yard.
We dance even if there's no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly,we're suspicious of others who don't. — Chris Rose

I was speaking on the radio in South Texas [in 2016], and I was speaking to Hispanics, and I said 'You know, you probably vote Democrat because your parents always voted Democrat, and your grandparents always voted Democrat, but let me tell you something. Thirty years ago in Texas, there were two parties - liberal Democrats and conservative Democrats. Looking at your principles, your values as Hispanics, in all probability your parents were conservative Democrats. The conservative Democrats of 30 years ago are Republicans today!' — Rafael Cruz

She got up and went to her tiny kitchen. On the way she turned on her radio. "You want something to eat?" she called over her shoulder.
"What do you have?"
"Um ... " She opened her refrigerator. "Milk, yogurt, and wilted lettuce." She checked her cupboard. "Cheerios. Instant grits. Sorry
I figured that since this is technically the South, I should try grits. Ah-hah! Pop-Tarts."
"Pop-Tarts! All right," he said enthusiastically. He came to join her as she loaded the toaster. "Life. It just doesn't get any better than this. You and Pop-Tarts. — Katherine Applegate

It is one of my favorite thoughts that God manifests Himself to men in all the wise, good, humble, generous, great, and magnanimous men. — Johann Kaspar Lavater

Navy: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision. Civilian: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to South to avoid a collision. Navy: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert your course. Civilian: No, I say again, divert your course. Navy: This is the aircraft carrier Enterprise. We are a large warship of the US Navy. Divert your course now!! Civilian: This is a lighthouse. Your call. Canadian naval radio conversation38 — John D. Barrow

The closest Western Civilization has come to unity since the Congress of Vienna in 1815 was the week the Sgt. Pepper album was released ... At the time I happened to be driving across country on Interstate 80. In each city where I stopped for gas or food - Laramie, Ogallala, Moline, South Bend - the melodies wafted in from some far-off transistor radio or portable hi-fi. It was the most amazing thing I've ever heard. For a brief while the irreparable fragmented consciousness of the West was unified, at least in the minds of the young. — Langdon Winner

Kindness is the language of love. — Debasish Mridha

A distinction is made between artists who work directly from nature and those who work purely from imagination. Neither if these methods should be preferred to the exclusion of the other. Often both are used in turn by the same man ... — Henri Matisse

Even if I did speak Irish, I'd always be considered an outsider here, wouldn't I? I may learn the password but the language of the tribe will always elude me, won't it? The private core will always be ... hermetic, won't it? — Brian Friel

There being no direct route to Savannah from Charleston, I followed a zigzagging course that took me through the tidal flatlands of the South Carolina low country. As I approached Savannah, the road narrowed to a two-lane blacktop shaded by tall trees. There was an occasional produce stand by the side of the road and a few cottages set into the foliage, but nothing resembling urban sprawl. The voice on the radio informed me that I had entered a zone called the Coastal Empire. — John Berendt