Loretta Lynn Quotes

Everyone wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.

You've got to continue to grow, or you're just like last night's corn bread-stale and dry.

Liquore just don't mix with love.

You either have to be first, best, or different.

Well, shoot, I don’t believe in double standards, where men can get away with things that women can’t. In God’s eyes, there’s no double standard.

Well, friends, nobody owns nothing in this world. Even your breath is just loaned to you.

All of a sudden, when I take my hair down, I don’t look like a flower child anymore. I look like Loretta Lynn. This is not a good look—for Loretta or me.

Some of these new country singers aren’t really country. I think some of them ought to be singing pop music and just leave country alone. You don’t have to see them, you can hear it. It is what it is, I guess, but I’d still rather they just let the ones that sing country sing country.

My attitude toward men who mess around is simple: If you find 'em, kill 'em.

Read. You should read Bukowski and Ferlinghetti, read Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, and listen to Coltrane, Nina Simone, Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn, Son House, Robert Johnson, Howlin’ Wolf, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Miles Davis, Lou Reed, Nick Drake, Bobbie Gentry, George Jones, Jimmy Reed, Odetta, Funkadelic, and Woody Guthrie. Drive across America. Ride trains. Fly to countries beyond your comfort zone. Try different things. Join hands across the water. Different foods. New tasks. Different menus and tastes. Talk with the guy who’s working in construction on your block, who’s working on the highway you’re traveling on. Speak with your neighbors. Get to know them. Practice civil disobedience. Try new resistance. Be part of the solution, not the problem. Don’t litter the earth, it’s the only one you have, learn to love her. Care for her. Learn another language. Trust your friends with kindness. You will need them one day. You will need earth one day. Do not fear death. There are worse things than death. Do not fear the reaper. Lie in the sunshine but from time to time let the neon light your way. ZZ Top, Jefferson Airplane, Spirit. Get a haircut. Dye your hair pink or blue. Do it for you. Wear eyeliner. Your eyes are the windows to your soul. Show them off. Wear a feather in your cap. Run around like the Mad Hatter. Perhaps he had the answer. Visit the desert. Go to the zoo. Go to a county fair. Ride the Ferris wheel. Ride a horse. Pet a pig. Ride a donkey. Protest against war. Put a peace symbol on your automobile. Drive a Volkswagen. Slow down for skateboarders. They might have the answers. Eat gingerbread men. Pray to the moon and the stars. God is out there somewhere. Don’t worry. You’ll find out where soon enough. Dance. Even if you don’t know how to dance. Read The Four Agreements. Read the Bible. Read the Bhagavad Gita. Join nothing. It won’t help. No games, no church, no religion, no yellow-brick road, no way to Oz. Wear beads. Watch a caterpillar in the sun.

The only way to conquer Barbara Stanwyck was to kill her, if she didn’t kill you first. Lynn Bari wanted any husband that wasn’t hers. Jane Russell’s body promised paradise but her eyes said, “Oh, please!” Claire Trevor was semi-sweet in Westerns and super-sour in moderns. Ida Lupino treated men like used-up cigarette butts. Gloria Grahame was oversexed evil with an added fey touch—a different mouth for every role. Ann Sheridan and Joan Blondell slung stale hash to fresh customers. Ann Dvorak rattled everyone’s rafters, including her own. Adele Jergens was the ultimate gun moll, handy when the shooting started. Marie Windsor just wanted them dead. Lucille Ball, pre–Lucy, was smart of mouth and warm as nails. Mercedes McCambridge, the voice of Satan, used consonants like Cagney used bullets. Marilyn Maxwell seemed approachable enough, depending on her mood swings. And Jean Hagen stole the greatest movie musical ever made by being the ultimate bitch. These wonderwomen proved that a woman’s only place was not in the kitchen. We ain’t talkin’ Loretta Young here.

Most of the other early rockers were Welsh, too: Jerry Lee Lewis from Ferriday, Louisiana; Carl Perkins and the Everly Brothers from Tennessee; Conway Twitty (born Harold Jenkins) from Arkansas. Same with Ronnie Hawkins and Levon Helm. Even Johnny Cash and a lot of the country and western stars: Loretta Lynn. Buck Owens. Kitty Wells. Hank Williams.

“You’ve got to continue to grow, or you’re just like last night’s cornbread--stale and dry.” --Loretta Lynn, Kentucky Grits

Pretty quick I learned that the fans don't give a shit about "controversy," they just want real. I give 'em real.

I hope reading this book made you feel a little closer to her, kind of like she was your friend, too. When you listen to her music, I hope you feel that same closeness, as if she is singing just for you. The truth is, she was.

If women would stand beside each other, rather than be jealous, it'd help a lot.

If they knew Patsy at all they'd know she could not stand fakes. She was a good judge of people. She knew who was real and who wasn't. If they weren't real, they weren't getting a minute of Patsy's time.

Now this was the first time I ever dumped a bowl of beans on Doolittle Lynn, but it wouldn't be the last. They became my weapon of choice. If beans was around when I got good and mad, you can bet he'd run.

The Grand Ole Opry asked me to be a member on September 25, 1962. I was thirty years old. I can't tell you how proud that made me. It was one of the best moments of my life.

Griswald grumbled, "Brian just reached out. Apparently, the police have been called in for the protest at The Corset." "Let me out," I said, reaching for the door handle. Despite the fact that we were speeding down the driveway, I was prepared to leap. "But I need your help," Griswald said. "Loretta needs your help." “I don't want to get involved," I told him. "You’re family," Griswald told me grimly, "you're already involved.