Sweet Home Alabama Quotes

They’d played “Sweet Home, Alabama” so many times I wanted to crash the party, kill the radio, and knife whoever was selecting the music.

And the Italian thing. He speaks fucking Italian, fluently.” Ashton shook his head and gripped my arm. “Use your powers, Alabama. For the sake of jocks everywhere, use the fucking pussy-magnet powers you’ve been granted!

Our relationship died the same day Lily did; we just let our love stay on life support a little longer, but I’m pulling the plug.

Every day I woke up without Lawson beside me, I grew bitterer and hated him a little more.

Believe me. I look cool, calm, and collected on the outside—but on the inside, there’s a tsunami going on.

I thank God every day for bringing you into my life. I know I don't deserve you, but I'm a better man because of you.

What is this Sweet Home Alabama? You have a baby. In a bar.

Those years of struggling and all that pain have taught us to appreciate each day we have, and especially cherish our time together.

You know I’m all for you channeling your inner Christian Grey—but I prefer that to stay in the bedroom,

I’ll gladly catch you anytime you fall.

Our love was instant, all consuming, and what I thought would be the greatest love story of all time.

Every day, I swear I fall a little more in love with him. All of the bumps along the way only make what we have together that much more beautiful.

If you call fainting and scaring the shit out of me a mild freak out, I’d hate to see a full-on freak out, girlfriend.

Leave the door on the damn hinges, will ya?!

You know me, baby. I can’t waste a chance to get you wet or naked.

It isn’t the perfect ‘fairytale love story’ I read about when I was a little girl. The ones with the perfect Prince Charming and the sweet and innocent princess. Instead, I fell in love with the Harley riding ‘bad boy’, and Lawson fell for the southern belle with a wild streak a mile wide. But if you ask me, I think eight-year-old me would love the way our happily ever after turned out.

I find myself daydreaming for a few seconds about stealing his cup and drinking every last drop. But instead, I behave myself and turn my attention back to my own cup. Ohh, yum…decaf—said no one. Ever.

I was drowning in wedding crap and estrogen back at the house, so I called up Lawson to see if he wants to grab a couple beers and play a game of pool. I needed to get out and do something manly so I don’t feel like I’ve completely lost my damn balls.

I suppose if one takes into account the lack of an ethics committee to oversee my dad’s childrearing methodologies, the experiments started innocently enough. In the early part of the twentieth century, the behaviorists Watson and Rayner, in an attempt to prove that fear was a learned behavior, exposed nine-month-old “Little Albert” to neutral stimuli like white rats, monkeys, and sheaves of burned newsprint. Initially, the baby test subject was unperturbed by the series of simians, rodents, and flames, but after Watson repeatedly paired the rats with unconscionably loud noises, over time “Little Albert” developed a fear not only of white rats but of all things furry. When I was seven months, Pops placed objects like toy police cars, cold cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon, Richard Nixon campaign buttons, and a copy of The Economist in my bassinet, but instead of conditioning me with a deafening clang, I learned to be afraid of the presented stimuli because they were accompanied by him taking out the family .38 Special and firing several window-rattling rounds into the ceiling, while shouting, “Nigger, go back to Africa!” loud enough to make himself heard over the quadraphonic console stereo blasting “Sweet Home Alabama” in the living room. To this day I’ve never been able to sit through even the most mundane TV crime drama, I have a strange affinity for Neil Young, and whenever I have trouble sleeping, I don’t listen to recorded rainstorms or crashing waves but to the Watergate tapes.

You are it for me, Lawson Remington McCoy. You've always been it for me.

Melanie: Why would you want to marry me for, anyhow? Jake: So I can kiss you anytime I want.

History is history, and there's no use tryin' to sweep it under the rug.

Fifty Best Rock Documentaries Chicago Blues (1972) B. B. King: The Life of Riley (2014) Devil at the Crossroads (2019) BBC: Dancing in the Street: Whole Lotta Shakin’ (1996) BBC: Story of American Folk Music (2014) The Weavers: Wasn’t That a Time! (1982) PBS: The March on Washington (2013) BBC: Beach Boys: Wouldn’t It Be Nice (2005) The Wrecking Crew (2008) What’s Happening! The Beatles in the U.S.A. (1964) BBC: Blues Britannia (2009) Rolling Stones: Charlie Is My Darling—Ireland 1965 (2012) Bob Dylan: Dont Look Back (1967) BBC: The Motown Invasion (2011) Rolling Stones: Sympathy for the Devil (1968) BBC: Summer of Love: How Hippies Changed the World (2017) Gimme Shelter (1970) Rumble: The Indians Who Rocked the World (2017) Cocksucker Blues (1972) John Lennon & the Plastic Ono Band: Sweet Toronto (1971) John and Yoko: Above Us Only Sky (2018) Gimme Some Truth: The Making of John Lennon’s “Imagine” Album (2000) Echo in the Canyon (2018) BBC: Prog Rock Britannia (2009) BBC: Hotel California: LA from the Byrds to the Eagles (2007) The Allman Brothers Band: After the Crash (2016) BBC: Sweet Home Alabama: The Southern Rock Saga (2012) Ain’t in It for My Health: A Film About Levon Helm (2010) BBC: Kings of Glam (2006) Super Duper Alice Cooper (2014) New York Dolls: All Dolled Up (2005) End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones (2004) Fillmore: The Last Days (1972) Gimme Danger: The Stooges (2016) George Clinton: The Mothership Connection (1998) Fleetwood Mac: Rumours (1997) The Who: The Kids Are Alright (1979) The Clash: New Year’s Day ’77 (2015) The Decline of Western Civilization (1981) U2: Rattle and Hum (1988) Neil Young: Year of the Horse (1997) Ginger Baker: Beware of Mr. Baker (2012) AC/DC: Dirty Deeds (2012) Grateful Dead: Long, Strange Trip (2017) No Direction Home: Bob Dylan (2005) Hip-Hop Evolution (2016) Joan Jett: Bad Reputation (2018) David Crosby: Remember My Name (2019) Zappa (2020) Summer of Soul (2021)

Alice always had loved flowers. There was something about the blend of colors, the hidden roots, the twisting petals as they unfurled in the sun one by one. A symbol of femininity---how that which is delicate can also be strong. Whiskey in a teacup, as her aunt always said. Well, her aunt and Reese Witherspoon, but honestly, Aunt Charlotte had been saying that way back when Reese was still filming Sweet Home Alabama. Alice swept petals from the floor, beautiful yet fragmented evidence of the fullness the day had brought. She'd been running the Prickly Rose, a customizable bouquet shop on Magazine Street, alongside her aunt for several years now, and Valentine's Day always left plenty of cast-off remnants.

Car radios blared in the night, generally pitting a gang in favor of Neil Young’s “Southern Man,” which chastised the South for its flagrant racism, against those who preferred Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama,” which chastised Neil Young for chastising the South and which praised the blatantly racist Alabama governor George Wallace.