Tim Cope Quotes

Mongolia is a country of rich and ancient heritage, unique culture and astounding natural beauty. It is a land of free and brave, peace-loving and hard-working people.

Cinema should always be in touch with the soil of the country. My films celebrate the heartland of India.

Growing up in eastern Turkey, I was not really involved with the family business - sheep and cow farming, yogurt and cheese making. But I think I learned from my father the unspoken business language or instincts that go back thousands of years.

I am struck by the wild character of this land and, as the Kazak herders often do, I have the urge to sing.

There goes traditional America.

I lived somewhat of a nomadic life, even when I lived in Ohio. We spent time in rural areas, in suburban areas, never really city areas. We rode four-wheelers. We had pigs and ferrets. And creeks. We had a creek in my backyard. It was like 'Huckleberry Finn.'

I move around, like a true Kazakh nomad.

Mongolia is a country of only three million souls. One million of them live in Ulaanbaatar, where, despite the skyscrapers, half the population sleep in tents. One of the few Mongolians to become famous outside his home country is Ariunbaatar Ganbaatar, who won the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World prize.

The Gobi is in many ways like the old American West, filled with abandoned hamlets and buildings, traces of disappeared peoples. Across its oceanic blond grass, horses and the black silhouettes of camels move languidly, as if they are the only inhabitants. Ancient Turkic nomads left enigmatic petroglyphs carved into boulders 2,000 years ago.

Latin American culture is conservative, and the rural areas are tremendously conservative. I don't believe that's just a Chilean thing.

Even leftists can appreciate the beauty of traditional religion and culture. Unfortunately they tend to reject the spirit that animates that beauty.

All Mongol women are born to the horse and the bow.

Late in the afternoon we passed a man on the shore fishing with a long birch pole.... The characteristics and pursuits of various ages and races of men are always existing in epitome in every neighborhood. The pleasures of my earliest youth have become the inheritance of other men. This man is still a fisher, and belongs to an era in which I myself have lived.

I'll write down and catalogue all the different devices that are Americana to me, and I try to have a historic depth and breadth and also the things that we do in our time, the type of vamps and chants, things that are available to us.

Nine English traditions out of ten date from the latter half of the nineteenth century.

We celebrate Thanksgiving along with the rest of America, maybe in different ways and for different reasons. Despite everything that's happened to us since we fed the Pilgrims, we still have our language, our culture, our distinct social system. Even in a nuclear age, we still have a tribal people.

There is a mandate to impose a voluntary return to traditional values.

Custom meets us at the cradle and leaves us only at the tomb.

A yokel mind loves stories from of old, Being the kind it can repeat and hold.

Mostly folk music is people with fruity voices trying to keep alive something old and dead. It's all a bit boring, like ballet: a minority thing kept going by a minority group.

You might be a redneck if getting a package from your post office requires a full tank of gas in the truck.

Hunchbacks danced at my wedding for luck. It's a thing you don't see nowadays.

Can't you see me as king of the Hereford ranchers, Lucy?" "Oh, I can see you, all right... I can see you riding out on your beautiful palomino checking the herd... There you sit, silhouetted against the evening sky... Sucking your thumb and holding that stupid blanket!

When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand still and look around On all the hills I haven't hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, Blade-end up and five feet tall, And plod: I go up to the stone wall For a friendly visit.

Oral musical traditions are rooted in assured and scrupulous faith.