Small Town Man Quotes & Sayings

Juliet knew that, to many people, she might seem to be odd and solitary - and so, in a way, she was. But she had also had the experience, for much of her life, of feeling surrounded by people who wanted to drain away her attention and her time and her soul. And usually, she let them. Be available, be friendly (especially if you are not popular) - that was what you learned in a small town and also in a girls' dormitory. Be accommodating to anybody who wants to suck you dry, even if they know nothing about who you are. She looked straight at this man and did not smile. He saw her resolve, there was a twitch of alarm in his face. — Alice Munro

Wherever the early Christians entered a town the power structure got disturbed and immediately sought to convict them for being 'disturbers of the peace' and 'outside agitators.' But they went on with the conviction that they were a 'colony of heaven' and had to obey God rather than man. They were small in number but big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be 'astronomically intimidated.' They brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contest. Things are different now. The contemporary Church is so often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It is so often the archsupporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the Church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the Church's silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are. — Martin Luther King Jr.

She didn't need a man. She wanted one. — Robin Bielman

Scientists like myself merely use their gifts to show up that which already exists, and we look small compared to the artists who create works of beauty out of themselves. If a good fairy came and offered me back my youth, asking me which gifts I would rather have, those to make visible a thing which exists but which no man has ever seen before, or the genius needed to create, in a style of architecture never imagined before, the great Town Hall in which we are dining tonight, I might be tempted to choose the latter. — Max Perutz

I'm a simple man. Grew up in a small town. Came from humble beginnings. No silver spoon. — Robin S. Sharma

You're a good man," Fang said. "You're the last good man in this whole town. All the good that could be squeezed out of this forsaken place was used to make you. That's why you're so small, my friend: there just wasn't that much left." Fang laughed. "and that's why you can see us, you know, and nobody else can. You see everybody, even that lumberjack. — Daniel Wallace

He dresses himself in tight black jeans, Amoco shirt, and polished cowboy boots. His profile sharp as a jackknife, mirror shades throwing back the world, Ben walks hard into town. No one sees him pass. The sky over his head seems to hide the man. He is New Harmony's secret messiah. A small apocalypse lives in his limbs. — Paul Jaskunas

My clue is that you're supposed to keep going once you've found me."
His eyes narrowed. Thoughtfully, as though he were looking for the words she wanted to say instead. "Keep going in the maze?" he said slowly. "Or keep going somewhere else?"
The man had an evil streak. "The maze," she said firmly.
Helpfully. Like a dutiful daughter of Bliss.
"Because there are a few places I'd like to go with you. — Jamie Farrell

But I knew the way the people in the town thought about things. They always had some time left over from their life to bother about other people and what they did. They thought they had to get together to help other people out, like the time they got together about the woman who let a colored man borrow her car and told her the best place for her was up north with all the other nigger lovers, and the time they got the veterans with overseas wives out. If you were different from anybody in town, you had to get out. That's why everybody was so much alike. The way they talked, what they did, what they liked, what they hated. If somebody got to hate something and he was the right person, everybody had to hate it too, or people began to hate the ones who didn't hate it. They used to tell us in school to think for yourself, but you couldn't do that in the town. You had to think what your father thought all his life, and that was what everybody thought. — John Kennedy Toole

Then Ben's mouth descended again and her thoughts, as fickle as tiny fish, swam out of her head. Gentle brushes of his lips turned into more insistent strokes of his mouth. Sexually frustrated widow or not, there was little doubt the man could kiss her into a melted puddle of goo. — Tracey Alvarez

Okay, here's one. Two years ago we interviewed a man from a small town in Vermont. Great reputation in his community. Owns a chain of highly successful hardware stores in the eastern part of the state. — John Sneeden

McDonald's, meanwhile, continues busily to harass small shopkeepers and restaurateurs of Scottish descent for that nationality's uncompetitive predisposition toward the Mc prefix on its surnames. The company sued the McAl an's sausage stand in Denmark; the Scottish-themed sandwich shop McMunchies in Buckinghamshire; went after Elizabeth McCaughey's McCoffee shop in the San Francisco Bay Area; and waged a twenty-six-year battle against a man named Ronald McDonald whose McDonald's Family Restaurant in a tiny town in Il inois had been around since 1956. — Naomi Klein

A hot man like that was made for more than friendship. — Sara Humphreys

Carl Degler says (Out of Our Past): "No new social class came to power through the door of the American revolution. The men who engineered the revolt were largely members of the colonial ruling class." George Washington was the richest man in America. John Hancock was a prosperous Boston merchant. Benjamin Franklin was a wealthy printer. And so on. On the other hand, town mechanics, laborers, and seamen, as well as small farmers, were swept into "the people" by the rhetoric of the Revolution, by the camaraderie of military service, by the distribution of some land. Thus was created a substantial body of support, a national consensus, something that, even with the exclusion of ignored and oppressed people, could be called "America. — Howard Zinn

No, I do not. I might want a baby but not in a small town. I'm getting too quick to let myself be caught up in the excitement of the moment. A handsome man standing beside me. Adorable children everywhere I look. What woman wouldn't have an attack of Iwannababyitis? — Carolyn Brown

My dad was a real man's man, and so were my brothers, in a small town where hockey is king. It's a masculine culture. It made me really attentive to what it meant to be a guy. — Lynn Coady

Though the people of this modest village were not accustomed to seeing such barbaric men as Varg, it was his inhuman features that had the citizens of Fellenshire Village on edge. Not only was Varg's hair whiter than an old wise man's beard, but he was nearly six and a half feet tall and easily towered over the shaken folk of the village. His enormous stature alone would intimidate even the most hardened warriors, but with Varg's hair paired with his silver eyes, the people of this small town whispered that the devil himself may be walking amongst them. — Brittany Comeaux

After conducting a concert in a small town, I once received the following note from a farmer who had attended the performance: "Dear Sir, I wish to inform you that the man who played the long thing you pull in and out only did so during the brief periods you were looking at him." — Arturo Toscanini

Man, Duke and I work our fannies off. We don't eat expensive dinners out. We don't go to the mvies or buy our clothes anywhere but Kmart
our biggest treat is taking the kids to Walmart on Friday nights, having a fast food hamburger and doing the grocery shopping. — Lori Copeland

I returned from Boston and rallied my fellow librarians to defend the town," Quinn replied, as if the answer should have been obvious. He offered me a small bow from his seat. "The librarians are at your disposal, Widdershins. We will fight to the last man. — Jordan L. Hawk

I wish I could say he was a French professor, a French chef, or even a bilingual tutor, but I can't. He worked in a factory and spent his summer evenings at a reenactment village as a blacksmith or something equally masculine. But it didn't really matter. He was the kind of man I had dreamt of, one who could bring a touch of the exotic to my small-town existence. (No doubt he would make love as passionately as he spoke French.) — Chila Woychik

MS Dhoni showed India what a tough man from a small town could dream and achieve. He has been a role model. Respect. — Harsha Bhogle

A scattering of pinpoint lights shows up in the blackness ahead. A town or village straddling the highway. The indicator on the speedometer begins to lose ground. The man glances in his mirror at the girl, a little anxiously as if this oncoming town were some kind of test to be met.
An illuminated road sign flashes by:
CAUTION!
MAIN STREET AHEAD - SLOW UP
The man nods grimly, as if agreeing with that first word. But not in the way it is meant.
The lights grow bigger, spread out on either side. Street lights peer out here and there among the trees. The highway suddenly sprouts a plank sidewalk on each side of it. Dark store-windows glide by.
With an instinctive gesture, the man dims his lights from blinding platinum to just a pale wash. A lunch-room window drifts by. ("Jane Brown's Body") — Cornell Woolrich

The respectable family that supports worthless relatives or covers up their crimes in order to "protect the family name"(as if the moral stature of one man could be damaged by the actions of another)
-the bum who boasts that his great-grandfather was an empire-builder, or the small-town spinster who boasts that her maternal great-uncle was a state senator and her third cousin gave a concert at carnegie hall (as if the achievement of one man could rub off on the mediocrity of another)
-the parents who search geneological trees in order to evaluate their prospective son-in-law.
-the celebrity who starts his autobiography with a detailed account of his family history
-All these are samples of racism. — Ayn Rand

All these older kids here, and I'm the only one from a town that's so small, if everyone breathed at the same time, you'd run out of oxygen. Man, there is nothing there. — Herschel Walker

A fortified town is like a man cased in the heavy armor of antiquity, with a horse-load of broadswords and small arms slung to him, endeavoring to go about his business. — Henry David Thoreau

The spires of the town below shimmer green, the roofs steam, and smoke rises silver from the chimneys. Georg points downward. Like spiders they lurk there in their offices, their shops, their professions, each one of them ready to suck the other man dry. And then the rest hanging over each one of them - families, societies, authorities, laws, the State! One spider's web over another! True, one may call that life, if one likes, and a man may even pride himself on crawling about under it his forty years and more; but I learned at the Front that time is not the measure of life. Why should I climb down forty years? I have been putting all my money for years now on one card and the stake has always been life. I can't play now for halfpence, and small advances. — Erich Maria Remarque

Predatory. Dangerous. Confident. God, the man was her crack and her kryptonite wrapped up together in one muscular package. — Avery Flynn

Alesha walked up to him and looped her arms around his shoulders as she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. She only meant for it to be a quick kiss but Reece's arms instantly banded around her as he took it deeper. She was readily on board. The man certainly knew how to kiss and she wasn't going to ask him to stop!...
She squirmed for a moment and then reluctantly lifted her head. "Wow."
He chuckled. "I kind of like that I keep getting that response from you."
"I'm normally much more prolific with words but whenever you kiss me, I can't seem to remember any."
His smile deepened. "Now I definitely like that. — Samantha Chase

Teeth clenched, she swiped the light switch next to the door, but all she got was a 'click.'
'Click, click.'
"Ugh," Lindsey moaned. She'd need to flip a breaker, and for that she'd need a flashlight. But that would only fix things if the power was actually on.
"I'm working on that." The deep voice with a drawl came from the dark hallway, and the man that matched it stepped out of the shadows. — Tracy March

One time, Kent was filling a pulpit at a small church in a small town. These places scare me, and for good reason. Knox was asleep on my shoulder and Mary was asleep in the car seat. A man walked up to me, not knowing that I was the preacher's wife, and said: "So, is it chic for white women to adopt black kids these days?" I took a deep breath and stood up to meet his gaze. "Are you a Christian?" I asked him. "Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Did God save you because it was chic?" We locked eyes until he dropped his head. — Rosaria Champagne Butterfield

Phoebe stared into his blue eyes. "What would you do if you ran away from a wedding in a car that didn't belong to you and discovered a body in the trunk about the time a sheriff's deputy rolled up behind you?" She flung her hand in the air, and assumed a high-pitched, sarcastic tone. "Hi, I'm a rich man's daughter with a dead man in my trunk. Could you help me get him out so I can be on my merry way? — Elle James

There are no bears on the island."
"Really, are you sure because I was hiking with my Dad and I'm sure I saw one? Either that or it was a humongous man-eating badger, with fangs. It might have been frothing at the mouth."
"Man-eating, huh? No problem then. I'm a girl. — Tracy Brogan

The modern Presidents Club was founded by two men who by all rights should have loathed each other. There was Harry Truman, the humble haberdasher from Missouri, hurled into office in the spring of 1945, summoning to the White House Herbert Hoover, a failed Republican president who had left town thirteen years earlier as the most hated man in America, his motorcades pelted with rotten fruit. They were political enemies and temperamental opposites. Where Truman was authentic, amiable, if prone to eruptions of temper, Hoover could be cold, humorless, incapable of small talk but ferociously sure of the rightness of his cause. — Nancy Gibbs

The traveling world is parallel to the world of those rooted to one spot; it is the other end of the telescope, so to speak. Things that are taken by most people to have solidity and permanence become relative and subject to time. The church spire, the town hall or courthouse that watches over your days and is an ever-fixed mark to the merchant or the laborer, is to the traveling man only one among many such. The cherished touchstones of your daily life are to him a set of fresh opportunities for passing adventure, a source of profit to be extracted quickly, like gold from a small mountain, before moving on to the next El Dorado. — Tom Piazza

Unlike Chicago or New York, small-town Minnesota did not allow a man's failings to disappear beneath a veil of numbers. People talked. Secrets did not stay secret. — Tim O'Brien

So now I lye by Day and toss or rave by Night, since the ratling and perpetual Hum of the Town deny me rest: just as Madness and Phrensy are the vapours which rise from the lower Faculties, so the Chaos of the Streets reaches up even to the very Closet here and I am whirl'd about by cries of Knives to Grind and Here are your Mouse-Traps. I was last night about to enter the Shaddowe of Rest when a Watch-man, half-drunken, thumps at the Door with his Past Three-a-clock and his Rainy Wet Morning. And when at length I slipp'd into Sleep I had no sooner forgot my present Distemper than I was plunged into a worse: I dreamd my self to be lying in a small place under ground, like unto a Grave, and my Body was all broken while others sung. And there was a Face that did so terrifie me that I had like to have expired in my Dream. Well, I will say no more. — Peter Ackroyd

The town draws a veil over certain events. This is a small community where everyone knows that sometimes the contract to forget is as important as any promise to remember. Children can grow up having no knowledge of the indiscretion of their father in his youth or the illegitimate sibling who lives fifty miles away and bears another man's name. History is that which is agreed upon by mutual consent. That's how life goes on; protected by the silence that anaesthetises shame. — M.L. Stedman

She smoothed her fingertips down his cheeks and cupped his face in her hands. "I'm not sure it can get any better."
He sucked in a ragged breath. "Oh, darlin'," he said, sliding his finger beneath one of the straps of her sundress and guiding it off of her shoulder. "I promise you it can." He kissed the spot where the strap had been and drew his fingers up her thighs with a light, feathery touch. "And I'm a man who keeps his promises. — Tracy March

Part of the reason people abroad resent the United States is something Americans can do very little about: envy. The richest, most powerful country in the world attracts the jealousy of others in much the same way that the richest, most powerful man in a small town attracts the jealousy of others. — Mohsin Hamid

He looked up from the paper he was scribbling on and offered
her a lopsided grin. "Hey, sweet pea. You bring me anything
special?"
The lopsided bit wasn't odd, but there was something forced
about it. "Got a fresh bag of cat food outside." Cat food that she'd
bought with the twenty he'd left to pay for his ice cream.
He pushed his makeshift drum set aside and rose with a
stretch. "Words every man dreams of hearing. Make my night if
you say you got catnip too."
She tried not to giggle. She tried hard.
But she couldn't help herself. "Extra strength," she said.
This time, his grin came out bigger, less forced. "Woman of
my dreams."
"In your dreams," she said. — Jamie Farrell

I realized how truly inexperienced and foolish I really was, a small-town girl attempting to play in the major leagues with a man who was larger than life itself. — C.L. Parker

He'd gotten in a quick swipe with his tongue the moment he'd been close enough to reach. Then, just to be sure, he went in for another sample, bathing Alex's leg with saliva, careful to miss the dangly bits between the man's legs. Edgar didn't get what the big deal was. He licked himself there all the time. However, Jack made a big deal out of it so he avoided that area like he'd been taught. — Mary J. Williams

Grainier still went to services some rare times, when a trip to town coincided. People spoke nicely to him there, people recognized him from the days when he'd attended almost regularly with Gladys, but he generally regretted going. He very often wept in church. Living up the Moyea with plenty of small chores to distract him, he forgot he was a sad man. When the hymns began, he remembered. — Denis Johnson

I went to heaven, -
'Twas a small town,
Lit with a ruby,
Lathed with down.
Stiller than the fields
At the full dew,
Beautiful as pictures
No man drew.
People like the moth,
Of mechlin, frames,
Duties of gossamer,
And eider names.
Almost contented
I could be
'Mong such unique
Society. — Emily Dickinson

She hadn't come for any of that. She came for him. Twenty feet in front of her, leaning back against the waist-high bar, stood the man she'd spent all day tracking down - the infamous Dillon James. The man who would soon have the power to take away everything she held dear. — J.M. Stewart

How old are you?"

"Old enough to know better, but still young enough to do it again. — J.M. Stewart

I went back to a small town in Poland where my dad grew up. It was a very traumatic experience for me as a young man to know that my father's family were killed by Nazis, killed by Hitler. And that left, you know, if not intellectually, at least an emotional part of me which said, God, we have got to do everything we can to end this kind of horrific racism or anti-Semitism. And I have spent much of my life trying to fight that. — Bernie Sanders