Aw Shucks Quotes

I fight the grin that’s trying to surface. For all his sweet words and aw shucks smiles, Tucker really is an alpha fucker. I don’t know why that thrills me so much, but it does.

D.J. is here tonight in all his “aw shucks” Sullivan glory, and I’m not turning my back on him for a second for him to pull a fast one with my babygirl.

I was gorgeous, even at fourteen. Oh, I know the whole world prefers a woman who doesn’t know her power, but I’m sick of all that. I turned heads. Now, I take no pride in this. I didn’t make my own face. I didn’t give myself this body. But I’m also not going to sit here and say, ‘Aw, shucks. People really thought I was pretty?’ like some kind of prig.

I may be a creature of the night,” he wiggled the fingers of his free hand in the air in mock spookiness, “but I happen to enjoy running water and electricity.” I snapped my fingers in an aw shucks gesture and said mournfully, “You’ve shattered all of my illusions.

She hasn't known many Southerners. That twang and aw-shucks about him--it's sort of exotic.

No, ma’am.” “Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me. This is northern Virginia. Y’all barely say y’all here. You can’t ‘aw shucks’ your way out of this.

That smile could melt his bones. It was an aw-shucks grin, a grin that said, I’m trouble, with Wes’s head tilted forward, hiding his open-sky eyes.

He shrugs, an aw-shucks gesture quite at odds with the rest of his mannerisms, and produces a grin from wherever he keeps his spare faces when he isn’t wearing them.

Sure enough, all of the Brotherhood was milling around and arming themselves like they were about to head off to find his sorry ass before dawn made shit too late. All eyes swung toward him, and as he saw the surprise and shock on those familiar faces, a load of aw-shucks hit him hard. To cover that up, he gave ’em a sly grin. “I’m back, bitches—miss us?

I look around briefly at the other players like I always do before a game. Other than Queenie, Bill, and Talon, I don’t know any of them (and I don’t care enough about them to know them). But if there’s going to be any cordiality, any forced politeness or ‘Aw, shucks, let’s all just try to have a good time here tonight’ kind of blather, then now’s the time to get it out of the way before I get down to the business of screwing everyone out of their hopes and dreams.

Chris and I told the story of how we met in American Sniper. Briefly, I was living in Long Beach at the time. A girlfriend wanted to go down to San Diego--nearly a two-hour drive--to check out some bars and relax. I almost didn’t go; it was a long drive and I was tired. But I went. We ended up in a bar in Coronado, where I found myself drinking Scotch and offering sarcastic comebacks to an admittedly good-looking but obnoxious young man hitting on me. The man’s friend came over and interrupted us, joking that I was abusing his friend. Now this was a handsome man. A bit over six feet, solidly built, he had a warm smile and broad shoulders to go with a sweet Texas accent and an easygoing, aw-shucks manner that instantly melted my cynical heart. His name was Chris Kyle.

A tiny cage of butterflies suddenly buzzed around the inside of her gut. Her superhot professor wanted to take a nighttime stroll with her and he was offering her his jacket. Before she could decide whether she wanted to be the type of girl who did that sort of thing with her professor, which was clearly inappropriate, she grasped the leather jacket in her hands and slipped it on. Aw, shucks, who was she kidding? She totally was that kind of girl.

He left their door cracked when he rejoined the others and Toby could hear him allowing that he was mighty proud of his grandsons but was still hankering for a granddaughter. “Don’t look at me,” Aunt Maribeth said. “Looks like I’ll have to look to you and Ben,” he said. Uncle Ben spoke up. “Well now, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Judging from the gleam in Jake Ransom’s eyes tonight, it wouldn’t shock me a tall to hear wedding bells before another Christmas rolls around.” “Don’t be silly,” Mama said. “Jake’s just got the Christmas spirit, same as the rest of us.” Grandpa chuckled. “I wa’n’t none too sure which one Ben meant, you or Jenny, till you spoke up.” “Aw shucks, Pa,” Aunt Jenny said. “You know good and well I’m too old to put a spark in Jake’s eyes.” “You ain’t more’n five years older’n Jake and he’s been a widower fer a long time.” “Thanky fer the backhanded compliment but don’t count on me for your granddaughter.

You could not have known he was going to leave Spicy Brunette at the altar for Cute Blondie unless you'd seen this before. I think I've been played," Benny huffs as he finishes off the last fry. "Think about what you're saying, Ben Kenobi. Spicy versus cute. We're never supposed to like the spicy woman in movies, not for the romantic hero to end up with. He's supposed to go with the aw-shucks, girl-next-door type who was right in front of his face all along. Spicy gal never had a chance, bless her heart." He scrunches his nose, mulling this over. "Then I have a dilemma, see," he says, and his feigned thoughtfulness makes me smirk. "Oh, do you?" "Yeah, because what if I'm into this girl who's cute but also spicy? Is she too good to be true? Can I really have one or the other?

For all his sweet words and aw shucks smiles, Tucker really is an alpha male.

They looked at my stomach and between my legs. They never said nothing to me. Only one looked at me. Looked at my face, I mean. I looked right back at him. He dropped his eyes and turned red. He knowed, I reckon, that maybe I weren't no horse foaling. But them others. They didn't know. They went on. I seed them talking to them white women: 'How you feel? Gonna have twins?' Just shucking them, of course, but nice talk. Nice friendly talk. I got edgy, and when them pains got harder, I was glad. Glad to have something else to think about. I moaned something awful. The pains wasn't as bad as I let on, but I had to let them people know having a baby was more than a bowel movement. I hurt just like them white women. Just 'cause I wasn't hooping and hollering before didn't mean I wasn't feeling pain. What'd they think? That just 'cause I knowed how to have a baby with no fuss that my behind wasn't pulling and aching like theirs? Besides, that doctor don't know what he talking about. He must never seed no mare foal. Who say they don't have no pain? Just 'cause she don't cry? 'Cause she can't say it, they think it ain't there? If they looks in her eyes and see them eyeballs lolling back, see the sorrowful look, they'd know.

Of course those few who knew he was the man who was going up first were in a mood to forgive him all … well, save for an astronaut or two … As for the NASA technicians and the military personnel assigned to the mission, they were in a mood of utter adoration of the single-combat warriors, all three of them, for one of them would be placing his hide on top of the rocket. (And our rockets always blow up.) Toward the end the three of them would enter a room for some sort of test … and the technicians and workmen would stop what they were doing and break into applause and beam at them that warm moist smile of sympathy. Without knowing it, they were bestowing homage and applause in the classic manner: before the fact. These little scenes pressed Glenn’s powers as charade master to the limit. More of these warm beams would be aimed at him than at either of the other two. He was the one mentioned in the press as the most likely choice. Not only that, he was the warmest of the three, the most consistently friendly toward one and all when he ran into them. It was just about too much. He had to keep smiling and aw-shucking and playing Mr. Modest, just as if it might, in fact, be he who was going up on top of the rocket on May 2 as the first man in the world to risk the mighty shot into space.

Does that usually work?” she asks curiously. “What?” “The aw-shucks little boy grin... Does it help you get your way?” “Always,” I answer without hesitation.

Then she said, “My sister told me you asked how it felt to be pretty.” “Yes,” he said. “You knew about me by then.” “It made sense.” “I’m sure she gave a conflicted answer. She’s still pretty. Deep down pretty people know other people feel they’re getting something for nothing. They have to be aw-shucks about it. They have to say it makes them feel shallow. But now I can tell you. It makes them feel great. It’s like bringing a gun to a knife fight. Sometimes I would dial it up and just mow them down, one by one, bam, bam, bam. It’s a superpower. Like clicking the phasers from stun to kill. There’s no point denying it. It’s a significant evolutionary advantage. Like being as big as you are.

The World is my Oyster; aw shucks.

Imitating Christ means imitating his humility. Not just an “aw, shucks” humility, but a willingness to be seen as less than you are

It was easier to be the headstrong monk, a boy on a long-shot mission, before he actually won anything. With the prize in hand, he realized his single-minded drive came across as aloof cockiness; his painful martyrdom certainly looked like self-nomination for sainthood. He's not sure he can keep up this exhausting, aw-shucks façade for much longer.

It had taken Cyrus a while to come out of his shell. One of those “aw shucks, ma’am” kind of cowboys, he was so darned shy she thought she was going to have to throw herself on the floor at his boots for him to notice her. But once he had opened up a little, they’d started talking, joking around, getting to know each other. Before he left, they’d gone for a horseback ride through the snowy foothills up into the towering pines of the forest. It had been Cyrus’s idea. They’d ridden up into one of the four mountain ranges that surrounded the town of Gilt Edge – and the Cahill Ranch. It was when they’d stopped to admire the view from the mountaintop that overlooked the small western town that AJ had hoped Cyrus would kiss her. He sure looked as if he’d wanted to as they’d walked their horses to the edge of the overlook. The sun warming them while the breeze whispered through the boughs of the nearby snow-laden pines, it was one of those priceless Montana January days between snowstorms. That’s why Cyrus had said they should take advantage of the beautiful day before he left for Denver. Standing on a bared-off spot on the edge of the mountain, he’d reached over and taken her hand in his. “Beautiful,” he’d said. For a moment she thought he was talking about the view, but when she met his gaze she’d seen that he’d meant her. Her heart had begun to pound. This was it. This was what she’d been hoping for. He drew her closer. His mouth was just a breath away from hers – when his mare nudged him with her nose. She could laugh about it now. But if she hadn’t grabbed Cyrus he would have fallen down the mountainside. “She’s just jealous,” Cyrus had said of his horse as he’d rubbed the beast’s neck after getting his footing under himself again. But the moment had been lost. They’d saddled up and ridden back to Cahill Ranch. AJ still wanted that kiss more than anything.