Naturally, I pay no attention to her snobbish nonsense about misalliances, which is ridiculous and out-of-date. Compared with the riff-raff we are getting in now from the films and the night-clubs, a country doctor's daughter, even with a poet in her past, is a miracle of respectability. If the young woman has brains and bowels, she will suit well enough.
(from Busman's Honeymoon, by Dorothy L. Sayers)
Berglund, sitting up now that he was out of gun range, looked at the shaggy-haired big man in the faded red shirt and the black vest. A sheepskin coat was tied back of the saddle and there was a Winchester in the boot. The big man looked unkempt and almost unreal, for there was about him a wild savagery that was somehow shocking.
Galloway backed off a few steps to where he could see the newcomer. "Howdy, Logan! Nice to see you!"
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
Charlie Farnum and me we started east for the herd, riding together. When we were a few miles off we started to sing, and we sang a dozen songs before we shut up and let it to the coyotes.
That Charlie Farnum had a better voice than me.
For that matter, so did the coyotes.
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
In the western lands a man had best be good friends with his horse or he may never have another friend or need of one. A man afoot in wild country is a man who may not live out the day . . . which is why horse stealing is the major sin. In many cases if you stole a man's horse you condemned him to death, a much less pleasant death than if you'd just up and shot him.
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
Sometimes of a night we'd set about the fire and talk. Nick Shadow had education, but he never tired to hear our mountain expressions. We'd lost a few of them coming west, but an argument or a quarrel we still called an upscuddle, which seemed almighty funny to Nick
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
It was not in me to complain of what had happened. A man shares his days with hunger, thirst, and cold, with the good times and the bad, and the first part of being a man is to understand that. Leastways, I had two hands, two feet and two eyes, and there were some that lacked these things.
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
How much can a man endure? How long could a man continue? These things I asked myself, for I am a questioning man, yet even as I asked the answers were there before me. If he be a man indeed, he must always go on, he must always endure. Death is an end to torture, to struggle, to suffering, but it i also an end to warmth, light, the beauty of a running horse, the smell of damp leaves, of gunpowder, the walk of a woman when she knows someone watches - these things, too, are gone.
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
Yet I was facing the same thing that faced every hunting the food-gathering people. Soon a man has eaten all that's available close by and the game grows wary. Until men learned to plant crops and herd animals for food they had of necessity to move on . . . and on.
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
One thing we learned. To make a start and keep plugging. When I had fights at school, the little while I went, I just bowed my neck and kept swinging until something hit the dirt. Sometimes it was me, but I always got up.
(from Galloway, by Louis L'Amour)
