Southern Mystery Quotes & Sayings

Where is Wildene?"
"Just step out the door and holler "Sooie! Sooie! She's a ho hog if ever I saw one. She'll come running. — Carolyn Haines

I reckon it's true what they say that good begets good and bad begets bad. The evil men do lives on after them, but what good they done gets buried with their bones. — Lisa Kaye Presley

Dreams were frail things, when all was said, and loneliness the only certainty. — Jan Cox Speas

Vidalia, open those eyes and look at me. As with all things, we do this together, Darlin'. — Julia Mills

The truth is, the Science of Nature has been already too long made only a work of the Brain and the Fancy: It is now high time that it should return to the plainness and soundness of Observations on material and obvious things. — Robert Hooke

I find in my poetry and prose the rhythms and imagery of the best - I mean, when I'm at my best - of the good Southern black preachers. The lyricism of the spirituals and the directness of gospel songs and the mystery of blues are in my music or in my poetry and prose, or I missed everything. — Maya Angelou

You were free, you are free and you will be free. — Santosh Kalwar

I loved the idea of a subversive world where mental illness was defined as just another version of normal, and education was how you made your way in the world, not something that began or ended. — Heather Sellers

She's smart and a hard worker."
"And?"
"A little on the crazy side." Cece inhaled with resignation. "I was overjoyed when the district elected a woman, but Rebecca's half a bubble off plumb. — Carolyn Haines

It hurts to imagine stuff. It can give you a headache. Probably doesn't hurt physically, but it hurts mentally. But the more that you can do it, the more you're able to get out of it. Everybody has that capacity, but I don't think everyone develops it. — Stephen King

Is there a doctor in the house?" Bobby's voice floated into the room. My heart fluttered, just as it had the first time I'd met him, just as it did every time. The low timbre of his voice, combined with his rolling southern accent, made my pulse race and my palms sweat....
"She is. Is there someone in need of medical attention?" I answered, trying not to sound breathless but failing, as I always did....
Not answering but stopping right in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders and leaning forward, the sexiest man in Georgia kissed me just a teeny bit senseless amid the dead bodies, antiseptic smells, and right in front of Reggie. — Julia Mills

Boopsy's Boutique catered to the woman, or man, with money and lots of it. Date dresses ran upward of a thousand dollars, and some of the high-end designer frocks touched five figures. The dresses were exquisite, emblazoned with crystals and pearls, complete with jewel-encrusted shoes to match. Needless to say, it wasn't a place I frequented. — Carolyn Haines

You have responsibilities, now, Bob. You must lose this naive understanding of violence! You are embarrassin' me in front of the lads! You can't play by their rules or they'll win unfailingly! You don't engage in courtly play-fightin' with one such as this. You get a great friggin' tree-branch and keep hittin' him with it until he dies. — Neal Stephenson

You may suppose that perhaps this Walter T. Wallace found his destiny in food and passed down to his progeny a legacy like that of the great Colonel Sanders. The folks here in Wallace County would love to be able to tell you this is so. But no, like their granddaddy, the Wallace men were thievin' crooks, always with a scheme ready to separate the weak from their hard-earned money. — Gwenn Wright

Tinkie's on the list."
"That's ridiculous. She and Enzo were only flirting."
"And Oscar showed his ass and then was seen floundering in the bayou where a blow-up sex doll, complete with a death threat, later showed up in front of an entire town." ...
"Even though they don't have a body, Pret is thinking Enzo's disappearance may prove to be a homicide. — Carolyn Haines

Out west everything has its own space. Every little ramshackle cabin, shack, hut sits perched atop its own little piece of destiny with room to breathe, room to live, room to die. You'll see them, the dead ones, sitting by the side of the road like some faded gray and rotting mystery, thinking about the good ol days before trains and cars and wanting more. — Andrea Portes

The man was a mystery to Jim. Sometimes, he seemed to be the perfect Southern gentleman from days long gone. At other times, he had an air of timelessness, that of someone who had seen and experienced much. — Philip C. Elrod

What a voice. Deep, throaty, but not in a sexy way. In a haunted way. A voice full of heartbreak and ghosts.

I won't go back, I won't go home,
'Cause in this place, the dead still roam,
'Cause this time, Whiskey Bayou won't let me go. — Susannah Sandlin

Are you still working on that bucket list of yours?"
Amelia nodded.
"As I remember, you mentioned a few things for Ireland." He smiled with humor lacing his eyes as he said, "Like kissing the Blarney Stone at Blarney Castle."
She laughed as she opened her brochure of things to do in southern Ireland. "You've got a good memory." Amelia pointed to a picture of a beautiful garden full of flowers. "I want to visit the Blarney Gardens, too."
He pointed to another picture and said, "How about the Blarney dungeons? That looks awesome to explore."
She looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah. I've also been interested in listening to a live Irish concert. — Linda Weaver Clarke

He was away in a mystery, locked in the enigma that young Southern Black boys start to unravel, start to try to unravel, from seven years old to death. The humorless puzzle of inequality and hate. — Maya Angelou

I'll be glad when this election is over!" Mary Anna yelled out the window of her car. She pulled the silver convertible classic Mercedes into the driveway of Eternal Slumber. "I was mobbed by O'Dell's sister and my momma this morning before I even had my boobs tucked in. — Tonya Kappes

If I weren't so screwed up, I would've sold my soul a long time ago for a handsome man who made me feel pretty or who could at least treat me to a Millionaire's Martini. Instead I lingered over a watered down Sparkling Apple and felt sorry about what I was about to do to the blue-eyed bartender standing in front of me. Although I shouldn't, after all, I am a bail recovery agent. It's my job to get my skip, no matter the cost.If I weren't so screwed up, I would've sold my soul a long time ago for a handsome man who made me feel pretty or who could at least treat me to a Millionaire's Martini. Instead I lingered over a watered down Sparkling Apple and felt sorry about what I was about to do to the blue-eyed bartender standing in front of me. Although I shouldn't, after all, I am a bail recovery agent. It's my job to get my skip, no matter the cost. Yet, I had been wondering lately. What was this job costing me? Yet, I had been wondering lately. What was this job costing me? — Miranda Parker

Teddy did a muscle pose with his arms before he did the whole bouncing pectoral move with his boobs. "I'm a wrestling champ. International."
It was hard for me not to stare at each boob taking its turn bouncing up and down.
"Oh." My brows lifted along with my mouth. "Impressive. — Tonya Kappes

There are no such things as applied sciences, only applications of science. — Louis Pasteur

The bones said death was comin', and the bones never lied.
Eva Savoie leaned back in the rocking chair and pushed it into motion on the uneven wide-plank floor of the one-room cabin. Her grand pere Julien had built the place more than a century ago, pulling heavy cypress logs from the bayou and sawing them, one by one, into the thick planks she still walked across ever day.
She had never known Julien Savoie, but she knew of him. The curse that had stalked her family for three generations had started with her grandfather and what he'd done all those years ago.
What he'd brought with him to Whiskey Bayou with blood on his hands.
What had driven her daddy to shoot her mama, and then himself, before either turned forty-five.
What had led Eva's brother, Antoine, to drown in the bayou only a half mile from this cabin, leaving a wife and infant son behind.
What stalked Eva now. — Susannah Sandlin

A foolish man tells a woman to stop talking, but a wise man tells her that her mouth is extremely beautiful when her lips are closed. — Robert Bloch

There are three things you need to know about me before we go any farther. I'm the heiress to the Fitzsimmons' Vidalia onion empire and as southern as the day is long. (Now, you get the name, right?) I'll be thirty in less than two months, my curves have curves, I'm in love with the man of my dreams, and I have great hair (not conceited, just honest. Put away the claws.). And... I'm a vampire. (Not the biting kind. The cursed kind.) Any questions? — Julia Mills

Cold air rises from the ground as the sun goes down. The eye-burning clarity of the light intensifies. The southern rim of the sky glows to a deeper blue, to pale violet, to purple, then thins to grey. Slowly the wind falls, and the still air begins to freeze. The solid eastern ridge is black; it has a bloom on it like the dust on the skin of a grape. The west flares briefly. The long, cold amber of the afterglow casts clear black lunar shadows. There is an animal mystery in the light that sets upon the fields like a frozen muscle that will flex and wake at sunrise. — J.A. Baker

My Christmas tree glimmered with lights, ornaments, and tinsel. Though such holiday trimmings weren't in vogue any longer, I loved them. I pulled every box of family decorations from the attic and glamored the tree until it looked like a "fancy woman in a cheap brothel" as my aunt Loulane would say. — Carolyn Haines

Jephus Hardy?"
Stunned. My jaw dropped when I saw Cephus Hardy walk up to me in the magazine aisle of Artie's Meat and Deli. I was admiring the cover of Cock and Feathers, where my last client at Eternal Slumber Funeral Home, Chicken Teater, graced the cover with his prize Orloff Hen, Lady Cluckington. — Tonya Kappes

Charles stepped forward, looking outraged. 'Him?' he cried. 'But I clobbered him! You can't marry him, Ally. — Marissa Doyle

There were two things Southerners hated to see knocking on their door. Jehovah Witnesses, because the majority of us were Baptist, and the undertaker. It was understandable that when Terk Rhinehammer opened the door, his face turned white as all the blood was drained from it after he looked past me and saw my hearse.
"What's wrong?" He used his hands to pat down his chest. "I'm not dead, am I? — Tonya Kappes

There are two qualities that make fiction. One is the sense of mystery and the other is the sense of manners. You get the manners from the texture of existence that surrounds you. The great advantage of being a Southern writer is that we don't have to go anywhere to look for manners; bad or good, we've got them in abundance. We in the South live in a society that is rich in contradiction, rich in irony, rich in contrast, and particularly rich in its speech — Flannery O'Connor

If some men think they've been outdone by a woman, well, they hit back with the best weapon they have. And that's to put you in your place and let you think you only have one use in life. — Lindsay Armstrong

How do you know about Leotta?"
It wasn't like I could tell him that Cephus Hardy was dead and right there about to give him the smackdown, nor could I tell him that I had seen his old Buick parked in front of Higher Ground when I acted like I had no idea he had a car and offered him a ride.
"Isn't she still married to Cephus Hardy?" My eyes zeroed in on his facial expression.
Cephus jumped around me and grabbed Terk by the neck. "Yeah, you sonofabitch!"
"Stop!" I yelled, but it was too late. — Tonya Kappes

Healing comes from gathering wisdom from past actions and letting go of the pain that the education cost you. — Caroline Myss

That's one thing I like about you, Sarah Booth. You put your own personal style on a room. I'd call this boudoir pigsty. Yes sir, any man would find this an enticin' little love nest, if he didn't break his neck tryin' to get to the bed. — Carolyn Haines

I won't tell if you don't." I winked.
Granny laughed.
In the South, a wink speaks louder than words. — Tonya Kappes

Morning, ma'am. I'm looking for Tommy Mason. Is he around?" Polite and professional, that was Senior Agent Broussard.
"Lord, what's that no-good sonofabitch done now? Wait, you ain't a cop; you're a game warden. "What'd he do, run over a fish? — Susannah Sandlin