Nuff Quotes

Nuff said!

What will people say, you running off to Memphis like you don't have a house to look after? Shug say, Albert. Try to think like you got some sense. Why any woman give a shit what people think is a mystery to me. Well, say Grady, trying to bring light. A woman can't git a man if peoples talk. Shug look at me and us giggle. Then us sure nuff. Then Squeak start to laugh. Then Sofia. All us laugh and laugh.

You know, I guess one person can make a difference. 'Nuff said...

it's what makes you grow up to have younguns and be a sho-nuff mammy all your own ... . A man ain't but trouble, just breath and britches and trouble

What will people say, you running off to Memphis like you don't have a house to look after? Shug say, Albert. Try to think like you got some sense. Why any woman give a shit what people think is a mystery to me. Well, say Grady, trying to bring light. A woman can't git a man if peoples talk. Shug look at me and us giggle. Then us laugh sure nuff. Then Squeak start to laugh. Then Sofia. All us laugh and laugh. Shug say, Ain't they something? Us say um hum, and slap the table, wipe the water from our eyes.

Old Ma Yibber spread the news that Zachry what came down off Mauna Kea weren't the same Zachry what'd gone up, an' true 'nuff I s'pose, there ain't no journey what don't change you some.

Perhaps this one summed it up: 'Some say they are trying to stop the shooting, a lot say they are having a party shotting him. most are just watching. That. my friend. is America. Nuff said.

You telling me God love you, and you ain't never done nothing for him? I mean, not go to church, sing in the choir, feed the preacher and all like that? But if God love me, Celie, I don't have to do all that. Unless I want to. There's a lot of other things I can do that I speck God likes. Like what? I ast. Oh, she say. I can lay back and just admire stuff. Be happy. Have a good time. Well, this sounds like blasphemy sure nuff. She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.

I ran to eat cake. I ran to be free. I ran to freely eat cake. I ran to remind myself what it was like to be a kid – exhilarated and entirely immersed in the moment.

Admit to yourself women are equal. In fact go ahead and say it. They're superior. Nuff said.

Love? Hmmph. It ain’t never ‘nuff in a crooked-letter state like this.

It ain't savages what are stronger'n civ'lizeds, it's big numbers what're stronger'n small numbers. Smart gived us a plus for many years, but with 'nuff hands'n'minds that plus'll be zeroed one day.

I mean, my home in London would always be a home, but really I felt I could live anywhere, so long as I was surrounded by love and filled with a sense of purpose. I hoped that one day I’d be anchored somewhere too.

They bartered fair an’ never spoke knuckly like savages at Honokaa, but politesome speakin’ it draws a line b’tween you what says, I respect you well ’nuff but you an 'I ain’t kin, so don’t you step over this line, yay?

S’pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy—what would you think?” “I wouldn’ think nuff’n; I’d take en bust him over de head—dat is, if he warn’t white. I wouldn’t ’low no nigger to call me dat.” “Shucks, it ain’t calling you anything. It’s only saying, do you know how to talk French?” “Well, den, why couldn’t he SAY it?” “Why, he IS a-saying it. That’s a Frenchman’s WAY of saying it.” “Well, it’s a blame ridicklous way, en I doan’ want to hear no mo’ ’bout it. Dey ain’ no sense in it.

So, I asked ’gain, is it better to be savage’n to be Civ’lized? List’n, savages an’ Civ’lizeds ain’t divvied by tribes or b’liefs or mountain ranges, nay, ev’ry human is both, yay. Old Uns’d got the Smart o’ gods but the savagery o’jackals an’ that’s what tripped the Fall. Some savages what I knowed got a beautsome Civ’lized heart beatin’ in their ribs. Maybe some Kona. Not ’nuff to say so their hole tribe, but who knows one day. One day. “One day” was only a flea o’hope for us. Yay, I mem’ry Meronym sayin’, but fleas ain’t easy to rid.

The sun hadn’t yet hit the Diablo Valley and so it felt baltic on the road to town.

Yay, Old Uns' Smart mastered sicks, miles, seeds an' made miracles ord'nary, but it din't master one thing, nay, a hunger in the hearts o' humans, yay, a hunger for more. More what? I asked. Old Uns'd got ev'rythin'. Oh, more gear, more food, faster speeds, longer lifes, easier lifes, more power, yay. Now the Hole World is big, but it weren't big 'nuff for that hunger what made Old Uns rip out the skies an' boil up the seas an' poison soil with crazed atoms an' donkey 'bout with rotted seeds so new plagues was borned an' babbits was freak-birthed. Fin'ly, bit'ly, then quicksharp, states busted into bar'bric tribes an' the Civ'lize Days ended, 'cept for a few folds'n'pockets here'n'there, where its last embers glimmer.

You bitch, he say. What will people say, you running off to Memphis like you don't have a house to look after? Shug say, Albert. Try to think like you got some sense. Why any woman give a shit what people think is a mystery to me. Well, say Grady, trying to bring light. A woman can't git a man if peoples talk. Shug look at me and us giggle. Then us laugh sure nuff. Then Squeak start to laugh. Then Sofia. All us laugh and laugh. Shug say, Ain't they something? Us say um hum, and slap the table, wipe the water from our eyes.

Cold soft drinks quenched my thirst one hot and humid July day after a cool drive to a mountain store. Seems like every woman in the place had on halter tops displaying their expensive tans. There were two women standing in front of me at the checkout counter. One said to the other, “You must be a lady of leisure, just look at your beautiful tan.' Then the other woman responded, 'No, you must be a lady of leisure, yours is much darker than mine.' A tall dark and handsome Black dude standing behind me whispering down my Black back said 'Sister, if those two are ladies of leisure, you must surely be a lady of royalty.' And in a modest tone, I replied, 'SHO NUFF?

That's enough Susy, nuff, nuff.' 'No, no I just want to say this,' she gasped, on the brink of incoherence. 'His eyes, his face, it's not ugly, and I know if I go back that he'll come and get some more of me... Even when he has drained all I know and when he... God, God, he came at me, at my throat and even then, I couldn't stop him, didn't want to even when I felt his mouth...' She reached to her throat, where her hands fluttered. Her eyes, clear and cornflower blue when they had been so serene a few minutes ago, were stark and tormented. Suddenly she buckled toward him from her propped position, sobbing. He caught her and she wept into his chest. 'And the worst thing... the worst thing... is that I want to see him again... Harry, he wanted me to take that cross off, and I did, and I've felt him wanting me now, even now, with blessed Jesus over my bed.

Independent Women Lucy Liu... with my girl, Drew... Cameron D. and Destiny Charlie's Angels, Come on Uh uh uh Question: Tell me what you think about me I buy my own diamonds and I buy my own rings Only ring your cell-y when I'm feelin lonely When it's all over please get up and leave Question: Tell me how you feel about this Try to control me boy you get dismissed Pay my own fun, oh and I pay my own bills Always 50/50 in relationships The shoes on my feet I've bought it The clothes I'm wearing I've bought it The rock I'm rockin' 'Cause I depend on me If I wanted the watch you're wearin' I'll buy it The house I live in I've bought it The car I'm driving I've bought it I depend on me (I depend on me) All the women who are independent Throw your hands up at me All the honeys who makin' money Throw your hands up at me All the mommas who profit dollas Throw your hands up at me All the ladies who truly feel me Throw your hands up at me Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that Tell me how you feel about this Who would I want if I would wanna live I worked hard and sacrificed to get what I get Ladies, it ain't easy bein' independent Question: How'd you like this knowledge that I brought Braggin' on that cash that he gave you is to front If you're gonna brag make sure it's your money you flaunt Depend on noone else to give you what you want The shoes on my feet I've bought it The clothes I'm wearing I've bought it The rock I'm rockin' 'Cause I depend on me If I wanted the watch you're wearin' I'll buy it The house I live in I've bought it The car I'm driving I've bought it I depend on me (I depend on me) All the women who are independent Throw your hands up at me All the honeys who makin' money Throw your hands up at me All the mommas who profit dollas Throw your hands up at me All the ladies who truly feel me Throw your hands up at me Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that Destiny's Child Wassup? You in the house? Sure 'nuff We'll break these people off Angel style Child of Destiny Independent beauty Noone else can scare me Charlie's Angels Woah All the women who are independent Throw your hands up at me All the honeys who makin' money Throw your hands up at me All the mommas who profit dollas Throw your hands up at me All the ladies who truly feel me Throw your hands up at me Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that [repeat until fade]

True blues ain't no new news about who's been abused For the blues is as old as my stolen soul I sang the blues when the missionaries came Passing out bibles in Jesus' name I sang the blues in the hull of the ship Beneath the sting of the slavemaster's whip I sang the blues when the ship anchored the dark My family being sold on a slave block I sang the blues being torn from my first born And hung my head and cried when my wife took his life And then committed suicide. I sang the blues on the slavemaster's plantation helping Him build his free nation I sang the blues in the cottonfield, hustlin' to make the daily yield I sang the blues when he forced my woman to beg Lord knows how I wished he was dead I sang the blues on the run, ducking the dogs and dodging the gun I sang the blues hanging from the tree in a desperate attempt to break free I sang the blues when the sun went down, cursing the master when he wasn't around I sang the blues in all these wars dying for some unknown cause I sang the blues in a high tone, low moan, loud groan, soft grunt, hard funk I sang the blues in land sea and air, about who when why and where I sang the blues in church on sunday, slaving on monday, misused on tuesday, abused on wednesday, accused on thursday, fried alive on friday, and died on saturday. Sho nuff singing the blues I sang the blues in the summer, fall winter and spring I know sho nuff the blues is my thing I sang the backwater blues, rhythm and blues, gospel blues, saint louis blues, crosstown blues, chicago blues, mississippi GODDAMN blues, the watts blues, the harlem blues, hoe blues, gut-bucket blues, funky chunky blues, i sang the up north cigarette corp blues, the down south sprung out the side of my mouth blues, I sang the blues black, i sang the blues blacker, i sang the blues blackest I SANG BOUT MY SHO NUFF BLUE BLACKNESS! from "True Blues" by the Last Poets

Sinners have more good times, I say. You know why? she ast. Cause you ain't all the time worrying bout God, I say. Naw, that ain't it, she say. Us worry bout God a lot. But once us feel loved by God, us do the best us can to please him with what us like. You telling me God love you, and you ain't never done nothing for him? I mean, not go to church, sing in the choir, feed the preacher and all like that? But if God love me, Celie, I don't have to do all that. Unless I want to. There's a lot of things I can do that I speck God likes. Like what? I ast. Oh, she say. I can lay back and just admire stuff. Be happy. Have a good time. Well, this sound like blasphemy sure nuff. She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.

Pa, you don't have to give up your room," Willow protested. "I know, I know, but there ain't nuff space in your room for the two of you together. 'Sides, my bed is bigger and . . . Well, you know." Willow silently nodded her head, and Rider shook his father-in-law's hand. "Thanks, Mr. Vaughn. It won't be for long. We hope to be in our place before winter sets in." "Gee, Pa, what we gonna do without Willie here to do for us?" Andy asked. "Don't rightly know, son, but I reckon we'll get along somehow." A mischievous glow came to Willow's eyes. "One of you could always get married," she suggested innocently. A collective round of groans and protests circled the table. Rider draped his arm around her shoulders, a prideful, male grin on his face. "Being married isn't so bad, boys," he said. "It's kind of convenient having your woman handy, whenever you get ra--" Willow slugged his arm. The brothers broke into wild laughter. Owen guffawed at his son-in-law. "You just might fit into this here family after all, son!

The bottle was almost empty when Miriam slid to the floor in a boneless heap. Startled,she pushed herself up and leaned back against the oven door. "You done mind If I shit, do you?" she asked. Willow blinked, then giggled. "Course not." "Oh,go-o-od." Miriam stretched her legs out in front of her, paying scant attention to the cotton twill skirts hiked up to her knees. "Are you all right, Miriam?" "Course,dear. Never felt so so-o-o good. It's just a little warm in here, that's all. Perhaps anudder cup of tha' cool wine 'll help." Willow, who was also feeling a bit too warm, agreed and divided what was left of the wine between them. "I think we've had nuff practice, Miri, Miri..." She belched and giggled. Miriam took another drink, slapped her thigh, and shook her finger at the girl. "It snaut nice to belch," she slurred. "Not ladylike 'tall." "Know what I think, Miri-um?" "No,wha'?" "Nothing's ladylike." "Thas right!" Miriam agreed, slapping her thigh again. "And thas why I always say, don't cuss. Nobody really gives a tinker's damn but it zounds like hell!

Gabriel’s Trumpet† One time uh preacher had uh church an’ his members wuz pretty wicked, so he made up his mind tuh give ’em uh strong sermon tuh shake ’em up. So he preached on judgment day. Somebody’s parrot had done got away and had done flew up in de loft uh de church, but nobody didn’t know it. So de preacher preached on till he got down to where de angel Gabrill would be blowin’. He said, “Brothers an’ sisters, when Gabrill shall plant one foot on sea an’ one on de dry land wid his trumpet in his hand an’ shall cry dat Time shall be no mo’—whut’ll you poor sinners do? When blows his trumpet, ‘Tooot toot’, whut will you do?” Every time he said ‘toot toot’ de parrot would answer him; but he wuz so busy preachin’ he didn’t notice nothin’. But some of the people heard de parrot an’ dey begin slippin’ out a de church one an’ two at uh time. Dey thought it wuz Gabrill sho nuff. He kept on preachin’ in uh strainin’ voice wid his eyes shet tight, till he hollered ‘toot, toot’ and de parrot answered him so loud dat everybody heered ’im, an’ everybody bolted for de door, de preacher, too. But he wuz way up in de pulpit and so he wuz de very las’ one tuh reach de door. Justez he wuz goin’ out de door de wind slammed it on his coattail and he hollered: “Aw naw, Gabrill, turn me loose! You ’low me de same chance you ’lowed dese others.” —JAMES PRESLEY.

Southern Cat on a Hot Tin Roof Sure nuff, I'm happier than a cat on a formerly hot tin roof which now uses NXT Cool Zone® heat reflecting roof coating ~ but I'm still ornier than a mule on loco weed and a whole lot hornier than a two-dicked billy goat. You gots any coatin' for dat?

The patches are the stories. Hold onto that. And the muddy zigzag of ducktape against the cracked doorglass. There's four kids who sleep here, a nuff for the fingers on each otherses hands. There's room in each of them for one important thing. They're a band. It's not they're in a band. They're a band. Four spikes of ducktape, up and down, like mountain peaks or a sawblade. Every band's got a sign, something to sew on your jacket, gouge on the wall at a show. Four spikes up and down say MEATHEADS, and you picked a fucked window to knock at, tourist. They're the best band in the world.

Paul a smart kid,” Hawk said. “I know.” “And he pretty strong,” Hawk said. “He is.” “Got from his uncle,” Hawk said. “Uncle Hawk?” “Sho’ nuff.” “Jesus Christ,” I said.

Why, that be one man who ain’t got nothin’ but hate poisonin’ his blood. But there ain’t been no one born that be that way from the start. No, somethin’ done put that poison in him. We prob’ly won’t never know what put it there, but it been put there sho‘nuff. You gots to pity a man like that. Now, I be hatin’ the things he be doin’ as much as anybody else, but it won’t be doin’ my heart no good to be hatin’ him. That won’t do nothin’ but put poison in my own blood. No, I reckon I’ll keep on pitying that poor empty shell of a man.

Wait, what? Ain’t no thing. I’ma choke you out ironically, Evan, so you be too cool for school. Cool as a motherfuckin’ corpse, Evan.” He let a little air through. “I love something! I do love something.” “You do?” “My cat, Cisco.” “Cisco? After the outlaw?” “After the networking company.” “Yeah, I’m sho-nuff gonna choke this motherfucker out!

Chinese philosophers say, in the presence of these thoughts, we must act ‘as if’ – even in the moments we are struggling.

shocking life lesson was beginning to dawn on me – if you work hard for something, you don’t always get what you want. And that’s okay, but it stings like a bitch.

Everyday happiness just had to take precedence over a dream that may or may not make me happy in the long run.

Wherever okra points its green tip, Africa has been: ‘nuff said.

when you put yourself ‘out there’, way beyond your comfort zone, when you indulge in endeavours that cause your heart to beat fast and your chest to tighten – amazing things happen. Doors open, opportunities arise and, most importantly, the painful chinks in your armour heal. The cracks that threaten to make you fall apart, they seal over. You become far stronger than you’d ever imagined. You stop waiting for permission to start living a life that allows your heart to sing and your mind to soar, and instead you set about building it yourself – shade by shade, piece by piece.

Tony’s patois kept getting broader as we talked. Like Hawk, he seemed able to turn it on and off. “Sho ’nuff,” he said.

Doing a one eighty is when you turn yourself a full one hundred and eighty degrees and take another look at the situation. You realise there must be another way to see things. Normally, a better way. As soon as you “do the one eighty” life becomes a lot more fun.

I wanted to travel, to see the world. To hike, run, swim, cycle for thousands of miles into an endless horizon. Only… I couldn’t do that. Why couldn’t I do that? Could I? And then I realised, I could. The only person making me be here was me. I was here by choice. What a revelation! I could at any moment, entirely of my own free will, get up, walk out of the door and never come back.

had always found solace in how insignificant the planets and the stars made me feel, and tonight was no exception. If we are that tiny, if we are that insignificant, then what can the purpose of life be, except to be grateful for it and enjoy as many precious moments of it as possible?

No one can pass through life, any more than he can pass through a bit of country, without leaving tracks behind, and those tracks may often be helpful to those coming after him in finding their way,’ and smiled.

I recognised this set of thoughts and likened it to an elastic band. I realised that, in the first week of an adventure (or indeed of any great change in life), you are stretching yourself away from normality but you are still bound to it by a giant elastic band. Every fibre in your being wants to just let go, to give up the fight for forward motion and snap you right back to normality. To comfort, to knowing, to safety, to certainty. The further you move from what is familiar, the greater the resistance of the elastic band. It’s a test: how badly do you really want to be there? What are you willing to put up with in order to carry on?

The planning of the journey was turning out to be even more exciting than usual. Over those months, I realised that excitement – like many of the other great emotions in the universe – is not halved in the presence of another person. It is, in fact, doubled. Like gas in a hot-air balloon, it expands to fill the space that you create for it between the two of you, and it allows you to float together above the clouds.

Fo' de Lawd!' he say, 'dat mule drunk! he be'n drinkin' de wine.' En sho' 'nuff, de mule had pas' right by de tub er fraish grape-juice en push' de kiver off'n de bairl, en drunk two er th'ee gallon er de wine w'at had been stan'in' long ernough fer ter begin ter git sha'p.

Maybe nothin' ain't real sho' nuff. Maybe 'taint no world. No elements, no nothin'. Maybe wese jus' somewhere in God's mind. But when he wiggled his tired toes the world thudded and throbbed before him.

Because it means that, in order to carry on, you must swim down into the depths of yourself and look for a version of you that you’ve never met before. A you that deserves to make it. And, of course, it feels like you’re swimming around in the pitch black, without even knowing what this thing you’re searching for actually looks like. But you have to trust that it’s there. And that if you want to find that part of yourself, you will.

Girl, you really figur’ worryin’ gonna do you any good? Ain’t gonna do nothin’ but stir up thin’s inside. That be a recipe for misery, sho ‘nuff. You just gots to keep walkin’, Carrie girl. You gots to keep livin’. That old road of life will unfold before ya, just like it be meant to. You just gotta keep walkin’.

One evening, Jill sat me down in front of Top of the Pops, during which the Sheffield band ABC appeared, singing ‘Tears Are Not Enough’ (or ‘Tears of Noddy Nuff’ as we later called it). ‘This is who you should produce next, they’re perfect for you,’ she told me.

contentment is better than any form of ecstasy.

a willingness to be vulnerable will always breed strength. And I'm not talking the kind of flex-yer-muscles, "let's go do some deadlifts bro" kind of strength. I mean an inner strength. A strength only you can see. One built through the simple joy of managing to keep the pedals turning, even when the road ahead is steep and you're always gasping for breath.

Don’t underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.

I always loved coming across sheep on runs. Especially in the Dales, where they hadn’t had their tails trimmed. As the sheep trotted down the road, their fluffy white tails waggled around like a wayward arm and it looked like they were waving at me. From their bum. There is surely nothing more joyful than having a sheep wave at you from their bum.

Why, that be one man who ain’t got nothin’ but hate poisonin’ his blood. But there ain’t been no one born that be that way from the start. No, somethin’ done put that poison in him. We prob’ly won’t never know what put it there, but it been put there sho ‘nuff. You gots to pity a man like that. Now, I be hatin’ the things he be doin’ as much as anybody else, but it won’t be doin’ my heart no good to be hatin’ him. That won’t do nothin’ but put poison in my own blood. No, I reckon I’ll keep on pitying that poor empty shell of a man.

Close the book. Read the title. Read the title again. Nuff said.

I've parodied a powerful quote from Rob Hill Sr. A quote that, in the crazy ass world of right now, sho'nuff screams to me. Inquiring minds, you're up.

I'm parodying a powerful quote from Rob Hill Sr. A quote that, in the crazy ass world of right now, sho'nuff screams to me; because my goal, too, was to build a life I don't need a vacation from. Through tears, I'm scratching this one off my bucket list.

In a bid to keep my sanity, I shifted my focus from the things I couldn’t control to those that I could.

Taking photos, doing our best to record the experience, but all the while knowing we couldn’t possibly capture this, not through a camera lens anyway. It was a landscape that only the richness of memory could do justice to.

For someone who was so hard on themselves, who moved through life wondering whether they could perhaps ‘be’ something a little more than they were – there was nothing more I could be in that moment. Nothing more I wished to be. No one else on the planet I would rather be. There was no striving. No belief that the grass was greener. No envy, jealousy, no discontent, no ungratefulness. It was like nothing else I had ever experienced before. It wasn’t elation. Nor joy. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure what the emotion was. And then I recognised it. It was contentment. And with every inhalation it nourished me.