Ranch Hand Famous Quotes & Sayings
15 Ranch Hand Famous Sayings, Quotes and Quotation.
It was a huge mistake," Chris recalls. "I had a real case of culture shock. I was a crew-cut kid who had been working as a ranch hand in the summers in Montana, and there I was, with a whole bunch of long-haired city kids, most of them from New York. And these kids had a whole different style than I was used to. I couldn't get a word in edgewise at class. They were very inquisitive. Asking questions all the time. I was crammed into a dorm room. There were four of us, and the other three guys had a whole different other lifestyle. They were smoking pot. They would bring their girlfriends into the room. I had never smoked pot before. So basically I took to hiding in the library.— Malcolm Gladwell
But then again, he would think, what about his life- and about Jude's life, too- wasn't it a miracle? He should have stayed in Wyoming, he should have been a ranch hand himself. Jude should have wound up - where? In prison, or in a hospital, or dead, or worse. But they hadn't. Wasn't it a miracle that someone who was basically unexceptional could life a life in which he made millions pretending to be other people, that in that life that person would fly from city to city, would spend his days having his every need fulfilled, working in which he was treated like the potentate of a small, corrupt country? Wasn't it a miracle to be adopted at thirty, to find people who loved you so much that they wanted to call you their own? Wasn't it a miracle to have survived the unsurvivable?Wasn't friendship its own miracle, the finding of another person who made the entire lonely world seem somehow less lonely? Wasn't this house, this beauty, this comfort, this life a miracle?— Hanya Yanagihara
I want to stretch our legs and show you the view of our valley. It's a tradition when we bring someone special to the ranch for the first time." He set the kitten on the seat opposite them and opened the door. He stepped out, then helped her to the ground and started to release her.— Debra Holland
Pamela squeezed his hand and didn't let go.
John's quick smile told her he approved. He led her to a lookout and waved an arm in a sweeping motion. "Our valley."
"Really?" Delighted, she leaned forward to take in the view. Grasslands studded with cattle surrounded a big white house, outbuildings, a barn, and two smaller homes. She studied the house. From this distance, it looked large and comfortable, two-story, as John had described, with a porch across the front. She relaxed at the sight.
The distant mountains still held snow on their peaks. Stark blue sky stretched over the land, with several puffy white clouds floating by. Our valley, she echoed.
I was surprised to hear you'd grown up on a ranch," he said.— B. J. Daniels
"What is that?"
"You don't like cowboy art."
She chuckled. "You think they go hand in hand?
One hand went around her shoulders and the other one tipped her chin up. For several seconds he lost himself in her blue eyes and then his lips found hers in a lingering kiss and both her arms went instinctively around his neck.— Carolyn Brown
"I've wanted to do that all morning," he said.
"I've wanted you to do that all morning," she whispered. "I guess we don't need to talk about this thing anymore now."
"I'm ready to do lots of things, Annie Rose. Talk is not anywhere on the list.
Besides Slayer, which is a full-time job, I raise animals. I have a ranch in Texas. My wife takes care of the animals when I'm on tour. When I get home, I become a ranch hand.— Tom Araya
Are you and Finn more than boss and hired hand?"— Carolyn Brown
"You might say that."
"My ranch is bigger than his," Quaid teased.
"It's not the size of the ranch, darlin;. It's the heart that runs it," she answered.
There are a lot of ways to castrate a bull," I said, my words deliberate and slow. "You can band the balls off, so they shrivel up and die. Or you can take a knife, and slide it just so." I demonstrated with my free hand. "I grew up on a ranch. I know a lot about castrating bulls.— Jennifer Lynn Barnes
Again the ranch is on the market and they've shipped out the last of the horses, paid everybody off the day before, the owner saying, 'Give them to the real estate shark, I'm out a here," dropping the keys in Ennis's hand. He might have to stay with his married daughter until he picks up another job, yet he is suffused with a sense of pleasure because Jack Twist was in his dream.— Annie Proulx
Where's Chase?" Maya said. "I want to guilt him into getting my bags for me."— Susan Mallery
Zane gave a sigh of the long-suffering. "How many?"
"Four, but two of them are small."
"You're going on a cattle drive, not touring the capitals of Europe."
Maya leaned toward Phoebe. "He's always crabby when people invade his precious ranch. Hmm. Actually he's crabby most of the time."
Zane's scowl didn't seem to affect Maya, who linked arms with Phoebe, then used her free hand to blow Zane a kiss.
Have you thought about retiring early?" "I've thought about it. I would lose a fair amount of my pension if I did. Besides, what would I do with myself?" "You could work for me." "Work ... as a ranch hand?" She laughed, genuinely amused by the image of herself in a cowboy hat cutting cattle that popped into her head. "I can't even walk in the snow without help." He glared at her. "You're a fantastic rider." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you truly offering me a job?" He stopped shoveling, rested on the hay fork, gave her a lopsided grin. "I would if it would keep you around." Something about that felt more romantic to her than a dozen red roses. "Jack West, you are a charming man." "Me?" He shook his head, got back to shoveling. "I think you need to look that word up in the dictionary, angel.— Pamela Clare
A ranch hand, equivalent of the old gaucho, rides after an ostrich, swinging three-thonged and weighted baleadoras. Note how only the toe of the boot is in the stirrup iron. In old times, the gaucho often rode with only the great toe of the bare foot in a metal ring.— Luis Marden
In the morning, as we're enjoying a shower together, Cash asks Mikey how long he's been working here.— Giorge Leedy
"Since I was fourteen."
"How OLD are you now?"
"Eighteen."
"Nice. Are there any other hot guys working here besides you?"
"I'm not a prostitute. I'm a ranch hand."
"Sorry- I didn't mean-"
"It's okay."
As they kiss and make up, I inform Cash that I was Mikey's first.
"Really?" Cash laughed. "You were?"
"Yeah-" Mikey answered. "He was."
"I was his birthday present last month..."
Cash laughed, "How much did that set you back-?
I grew up in Colorado and spent my summers in Montana as a ranch hand.— Chris Eigeman
I drove out. There were a half-dozen cars there. A house man let me in. Brell came hurrying to me to pump my hand. He was a trim-bodied man in his late forties, dark and handsome in a slightly vulpine way, and I suspected he wore a very expensive and inconspicuous hair piece. He looked the type to go bald early. He had a resonant voice and a slightly theatrical presence. He wore tailored twill ranch pants and a crisp white shirt with blue piping.— John D. MacDonald
