Kitchen Quotes

#1. The only thing that [Amaranta] did not keep in mind in her fearsome plan was that in spite of her pleas to God she might die before Rebeca. That was, in fact, what happened. At the final moment, however, Amaranta did not feel frustrated, but, on the contrary, free of all bitterness because death had awarded her the privilege of announcing itself several years ahead of time. She saw it on one burning afternoon sewing with her on the porch a short time after Meme had left for school. She saw it because it was a woman dressed in blue with long hair, with a sort of antiquated look, and with a certain resemblance to Pilar Ternera during the time when she had helped with the chores in the kitchen. Fernanda was present several times and did not see her, in spite of the fact that she was so real – so human and on one occasion asked of Amaranta the favor of threading a needle. Death did not tell her when she was going to die or whether her hour was assigned before that of Rebeca, but ordered her to begin sewing her own shroud on the next sixth of April. She was authorized to make it as complicated and as fine as she wanted, but just as honestly executed as Rebeca's, and she was told that she would die without pain, fear, or bitterness at dusk on the day that she finished it. Trying to waste the most time possible, Amaranta ordered some rough flax and spun the thread herself. She did it so carefully that the work alone took four years. Then she started the sewing. As she got closer to #Quote by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

#2. I wonder if the children of movie stars get this weird sense of disconnect I have now. The person on-screen looks like the woman who makes lemonade in our kitchen, but the words coming out of her mouth are alien. #Quote by Huntley Fitzpatrick

#3. I'll stir up the fire in the stove in the tack room. If ye're committed to this folly, then ye'll be wanting somethin' to eat before ye return to the house."
Where the delectable Sophia was probably in the kitchen at this very moment, ruining his dinner. Despite his throbbing eye, Dougal reluctantly grinned. "You're right, I shall want my dinner first. And a bath."
"Which would be cold if ye got it in the houes, I suppose?"
"And filled with itcing powder, as well, if they think of it."
"I'm glad we'll be leavin' soon," Shelton said grumpily. #Quote by Karen Hawkins

#4. On the kitchen table a MakerBot was producing a small plastic part, watched intently by a young woman who was talking on her phone in a mix of English and Mandarin. #Quote by Neal Stephenson

#5. Stop bothering my guest," Kami ordered.

"If I do …," Tomo began his bargain. "If I do. Can I have four glasses of lemonade?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because if you drank four glasses of lemonade, you would explode," Kami said. "Dad would come downstairs and ask, 'Where is my youngest born?' and I could only point to the floor, where all that remained of you would be a pool of lemonade and a heap of sweetened entrails. You can have one glass of lemonade."

Tomo gave a cheer and leaped from the sofa, heading for the kitchen at top speed.

Kami sighed. "The current theory is that he is a lemonade vampire. C'mon. #Quote by Sarah Rees Brennan

#6. Futurist Faith Popcorn goes even further. By the year 2010, she predicts, 90 percent of all consumer products will be home-delivered. "They'll put a refrigerator in your garage and bar code your kitchen. Every week they'll restock your favorites, without your ever having to reorder. They'll even pick up your dry cleaning, return your videotapes, whatever you need. #Quote by Al Ries

#7. I see you've met Desire and Fulfillment...Regret is in the kitchen making coffee. #Quote by Tom Robbins

#8. I said, 'Oh, I know. If the white folks is in Heaven too, then the black angels were in the kitchen, preparing the milk and honey.' #Quote by Muhammad Ali

#9. My kids are always in the kitchen with me - I bring them to the bakery and let them decorate cakes, and they also try to help me and my wife, Lisa, cook dinner at night. #Quote by Buddy Valastro

#10. My home kitchen is airy, with a gas stove, a stainless-steel island table in the center and granite countertops. It's very modest but there's tons of counter space, so you can slap down three or four cutting boards. #Quote by Grant Achatz

#11. My first morning back, and I'm in such a terrific mood that I start the day off right by blasting Nappy Roots in the kitchen while I scarf down some cereal. The loud strains of "Good Day" draw the others from their bedrooms, and Garrett is the first to appear, clad in boxers and rubbing his eyes.

"Morning, Sunshine," he mumbles. "Please tell me you made some coffee."

I point to the counter. "Go nuts."

He pours himself a cup and plops down on one of the stools. "Did cartoon chipmunks dress you this morning?" he grumbles. "You're scarily chipper."

"And you're scarily grumpy. Smile, dude. It's our favorite day of the year, remember? #Quote by Elle Kennedy

#12. When accepting the American Film Institute Life Achievement award: I beg permission to mention by name only four people who have given me the most affection, appreciation, and encouragement, and constant collaboration. The first of the four is a film editor, the second is a scriptwriter, the third is the mother of my daughter Pat (Patricia Hitchcock), and the fourth is as fine a cook as ever performed miracles in a domestic kitchen. And their names are Alma Reville. #Quote by Alfred Hitchcock

#13. I'm not advocating we should all be back in the kitchen and cooking all the time, because life's too short and we've got more interesting things to do. But to rediscover the intense pleasure of making a cake and putting it down on the table is ridiculously satisfying, out of all proportion to the work. #Quote by Jane Asher

#14. WE ALL THREE sat at the kitchen table in our raincoats, and Joel smashed tomatoes with a small rubber mallet. We had seen it on TV: a man with an untamed mustache and a mallet slaughtering vegetables, and people in clear plastic ponchos soaking up the mess, having the time of their lives. #Quote by Justin Torres

#15. Mama had her little cough. Once or twice, some quiet sobbing, out of sight ... Or the slamming of kitchen cupboard doors. That was her language. #Quote by David Small

#16. It turns out that life in the kitchen is very similar to life on a team. Sports and kitchens are about teams. I found my alternate team sport in the kitchen. #Quote by Wylie Dufresne

#17. She started out of the kitchen, then stopped and put her hand on my shoulder, bending down to kiss me gently on the forehead. She smelled like vanilla and Joy perfume, and suddenly I felt like I might start crying again. "You really scared me, Caitlin," she said, smiling as she brushed her fingers through my hair. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you." I could tell her, I told myself. I could tell her right now and fix this. I could say that he hits me and I hate cheerleading and I miss Cass but I know why she left and I wish I could make everything better but I can't, I can't, I can't even tell you where it hurts, not now. "Don't worry," I said instead, as she ruffled my hair and walked away, my mother, to do what she did best, to take care of me. "I'm fine. #Quote by Sarah Dessen

#18. He woke one morning tantalized by an idea: if he could catch the orchard trees motionless for one second -- for half of one second -- then none of it would have happened. The kitchen door would bang open and in his father would walk, red-faced and slapping his hands and exclaiming about some newly whelped pup. Childish, Edgar knew, but he didn't care. The trick was to not focus on any single part of any tree, but to look through them all toward a point in the air. But how insidious a bargain he'd made. Even in the quietest moment some small thing quivered and the tableau was destroyed.

How many afternoons slipped away like that? How many midnights standing in the spare room, watching the trees shiver in the moonlight? Still he watched, transfixed. Then, blushing because it was futile and silly, he forced himself to walk away.

When he blinked, an afterimage of perfect stillness.

To think it might happen when he wasn't watching.

He turned back before he reached the door. Through the window glass, a dozen trees strummed by the winter wind, skeletons dancing pair-wise, fingers raised to heaven.

Stop it, he told himself. Just stop.

And watched some more. #Quote by David Wroblewski

#19. I had to do something about my longing, so I got up, went to the kitchen in my nightgown, peeled a pound of potatoes, boiled them up, sliced them, fried them in butter, salted them generously and ate every bite of them - asking my body the whole while if it would please accept the satisfaction of a pound of fried potatoes in lieu of the fulfillment of lovemaking.
My body replied, only after eating every bite of food: No deal, babe. #Quote by Elizabeth Gilbert

#20. Their friendship sometimes struck Frances as being like a piece of soap-like a piece of ancient kitchen soap that had got worn to the shape of her hand, but which had been dropped to the floor so many times it was never quite free of its bits of cinder. #Quote by Sarah Waters

#21. That's it," Rayna said, pushing my laptop closed. It was about a week before the Rio trip, and she and I were at the kitchen island working on term papers.
"Rayna!" I complained. "I could've lost my work!"
"Please. You hadn't typed anything in the last hour. Consider this a one-person intervention: Who is he and why haven't you told me about him?"
I felt the blush rise into my face. "Who is who?"
"Seriously? You're going to play that with me? Clea, it's obvious. You're practically delirious; you've been a million miles away since we got back from-" She gasped and smacked my arm. "Oh! My! God! It's Ben, isn't it? I did interrupt something the night we got back from Paris. It's Ben, and you haven't told me because you didn't want me to say I told you so, when I so told you so! You loser!" She hurled the epithet with a grin of such complete delight that I almost hated to tell her the truth.
"No! Rayna, it's not Ben. It's not anyone."
"Liar."
"Okay, it's not anyone real, I said, grimacing. #Quote by Hilary Duff

#22. Oh, Oliver, I said to myself on my way to the kitchen for a quick bite to eat, I'll do anything for you. I'll ride up the hill with you, and I'll race you up the road to town, and won't point out the sea when we reach the berm, and I'll wait at the bar in the piazzetta while you meet with your translator, and I'll touch the memorial to the unknown soldier who died on the Piave, and I won't utter a word, I'll show you the way to the bookstore, and we'll park our bikes outside the shop and go in together and leave together, and I promise, I promise, I promise, there'll be no hint of Shelley, or Monet, nor will I ever stoop to tell you that two nights ago you added an annual ring to my soul. #Quote by Andre Aciman

#23. the phone rang, and I picked it up in the kitchen. It was Mac Evans, asking if I wanted to be an astronaut. #Quote by Chris Hadfield

#24. In the kitchen, Chris pours her a glass of sun tea. Bitter. She hates the way they make tea up here. Tea should be sweet, gritty with sugar. Up here it's like the Yankees want their tea to taste like wash water. #Quote by Chuck Wendig

#25. I've got a bit of Scottish Blood ... On my kitchen knife!! #Quote by Milton Jones

#26. I like the smell of toast. Coffee is okay, but I don't drink much coffee. But toast is a nice smell. You smell some toast coming from your kitchen in the morning, you know that you're involved in a domestic situation and the operation that's going on is pleasant. #Quote by Robert Duvall

#27. Indians love to travel with their families, and they bring along everything including the kitchen and cooking utensils. Third-class coaches are always filled to capacity with people literally hanging out of the windows. #Quote by Volkmar Wentzel

#28. Tell Jack that after he finishs saving the universe again, he has to take out the trash in the kitchen."
-Rosalind Kirby, one day in 1971 #Quote by Mark Evanier

#29. I really didn't have an interest in being in the kitchen until after I was married, when I was 18. It didn't take me long to realize that Mama was not going to show up at my house every day and cook. #Quote by Paula Deen

#30. That family glaze of common references, jokes, events, calamities-that sense of a family being like a kitchen midden: layer upon layer of the things daily life is made of. The edifice that lovers build is by comparison delicate and one-dimensional. #Quote by Laurie Colwin

#31. I can tell in two minutes if I should hire someone in the kitchen. Two minutes. It's his desire. It's that open-eyed, attentive expression. If he doesn't have it ... I mean, I can teach a chimp how to cook dinner. But I cannot teach a chimp how to love it. #Quote by Mario Batali

#32. Oh, Steven. I didn't expect your last-minute business to end so early. Why don't you go hang out with Corrie in the kitchen? She's eating supper. There's extra stroganoff on the stove. I'm just going to visit with Beth a little bit in the living room. #Quote by Chris Keniston

#33. You may be running short of create juice because you mind isn't interested. Eddie isn't naping because he's tired; he's napping because he's bored out of his mind. Drool is running down his chin. So wake him up. BAM! WHERE DID THAT COME FROM, EDDIE?! THERE'S A BODY ON THE KITCHEN TABLE?! WHAT'S GOING ON?!
Eddie will jump out of his recliner in a panic. WHAT? A BODY?! AN EXPLOSION? WHY WOULD THE HOUSE EXPLODE? WHAT'S GOIND ON?! #Quote by Daniel Schwabauer

#34. He brought them a lot of joy, whether by tossing a ball around or tickling them, teaching them how to hunt or just watching TV. Angel loved to climb into his lap and cuddle. His tensions and cares would melt away as he held her.
I know there's a saying about "Daddy's little girl wrapping him around her finger." Chris and Angel didn't have that kind of relationship, exactly. She was definitely his girl--he was closer to her than probably any other female on the planet, including me. But he also held her to high standards. She couldn't get away with being bad or taking advantage of him.
She could see in his face that he was absolutely delighted by her. He "got" her humor, and he definitely got her.
One day he had to leave on an overnight trip. We said good-bye and closed the door; Angel and I went into the kitchen.
She had tears in her eyes.
"Okay, honey?" I asked.
"Yeah. I know he's coming back tomorrow," she said. "I guess I just miss him already."
I told Chris what she'd said later on that night when he called to check in. It was something cute she'd done.
"Wow," he said. "I feel like I've just been punched in the stomach."
He slid down the wall to the floor, hand to his face, devastated by his daughter's simple statement of love.
"I wasn't trying to make you feel bad," I told him. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
We talked a little more, then he hung up the phone. The man he was traveling with said later that he looked w #Quote by Taya Kyle

#35. You're lucky you didn't know him back in his tech phase. There was this time in our second year when we were living in the same house. Kitchen table kept wobbling so Landis shoved this metal saucer under one of the legs. Wasn't until two weeks later we found out it was a land mine. #Quote by Benedict Jacka

#36. My mother had always taught me to write about my feelings instead of sharing really personal things with others, so I spent many evenings writing in my diary, eating everything in the kitchen and waiting for Mr. Wrong to call. #Quote by Cathy Guisewite

#37. They went Indian file. First came the scouts, clever, graceful, quiet. They had rifles. Next came the antitank gunner, clumsy and dense, warning Germans away with a Colt .45 automatic in one hand and a trench knife in the other.
Last came Billy Pilgrim, empty-handed, bleakly ready for death. Billy was preposterous - six feet and three inches tall, with a chest and shoulders like a box of kitchen matches. He had no helmet, no overcoat, no weapon, and no boots. On his feet were cheap, low-cut civilian shoes which he had bought for his father's funeral. Billy had lost a heel, which made him bob up-and-down, up-and-down. The involuntary dancing, up-and-down, up-and-down, made his hip joints sore. #Quote by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

#38. Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost. #Quote by John Dryden

#39. [Stice's] parents had met and fallen in love in a Country/Western bar in Partridge KS - just outside Liberal KS on the Oklahoma border - met and fallen in star-crossed love in a bar playing this popular Kansas C/W-bar-game where they put their bare forearms together and laid a lit cigarette in the little valley between the two forearms' flesh and kept it there till one of them finally jerked their arm away and reeled away holding their arm. Mr. and Mrs. Stice each discovered somebody else that wouldn't jerk away and reel away, Stice explained. Their forearms were still to this day covered with little white slugs of burn-scar. They'd toppled like pines for each other from the git-go, Stice explained. They'd been divorced and remarried four or five times, depending on how you defined certain jurisprudential precepts. When they were on good domestic terms they stayed in their bedroom for days of squeaking springs with the door locked except for brief sallies out for Beefeater gin and Chinese take-out in little white cardboard pails with wire handles, with the Stice children wandering ghostlike through the clapboard house in sagging diapers or woolen underwear subsisting on potato chips out of econobags bigger than most of them were, the Stice kids. The kids did somewhat physically better during periods of nuptial strife, when a stony-faced Mr. Stice slammed the kitchen door and went off daily to sell crop insurance while Mrs. Stice - whom both Mr. Stice and The Darkness cal #Quote by David Foster Wallace

#40. Maketa Groves has a strong, bright lyric gift. Her poems come out of music and are full of music. They bring us the sounds of the streets and the sounds of nature, and make us see once again that they are parts of the same song. She celebrates American lives as they are lived today: the mother scrubbing her kitchen floor at midnight, the drag-queens in the Tenderloin, the homeless woman knitting in the courtyard. This is poetry that relentlessly shows us the beauty in the world, with all its struggles and complexity, and demands that we go out to meet it with open hearts. #Quote by Diane Di Prima

#41. In Goodfellas they have this one scene where the camera goes down some steps and walks through a kitchen into a restaurant and the critics were all over this as evidence of the genius of Scorsese and Scorsese is a genius. #Quote by Alex Cox

#42. A person of high, rare mental gifts who is forced into a job which is merely useful is like a valuable vase decorated with the most beautiful painting and then used as a kitchen pot. #Quote by Irvin D. Yalom

#43. A police car went by with its siren going, a rotary slurping noise, it sounded like the blender in their kitchen - she made fruit shakes compulsively that they felt morally bound to drink. #Quote by Don DeLillo

#44. ... Something isn't right with you and this property. Strange things happen around it. I don't know what is going on, but I will find out. You could make it easier on yourself by coming clean."
"Sure. This is a magic bed-and-breakfast and the two guys in my kitchen are aliens from outerspace. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#45. Well if you would like to climb your pretty ass up on the kitchen table, I'd be more than obliged to eat you." -Daxton, In spades

The only one thing that I knew for sure, I was drawn to Daxton much like a moth to a flame and I welcomed the burn. -Avalynn, In Spades #Quote by K. Pinson

#46. Margo?" came Mom's voice from the kitchen. "Honey, is that you?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, it's a burglar. I've come to steal all your silverware and jewelry. And your cat," I added, giving Ziggy another scratch. #Quote by Lindsay Ribar

#47. You know how some kids get excited about the first day of school and have an outfit all picked out and a new lunch box and stuff? Well, they're bleeping idiots.
Can we play hooky?" Iggy muttered as he scrambled eggs.
Somehow I suspect they're picky about that," I said, dropping more bread into the toaster. "I bet they'd call Anne."
I look like prep school Barbie," Nudge complained, as she entered the kitchen. She caught sight of me in my uniform and looked mollified. "Actually, you look like prep school Barbie. I'm just Barbie's friend."
I narrowed my eyes at her. #Quote by James Patterson

#48. They're savages." "They're young boys, human beings - in need of your kindness and goodwill." "And I am showing them kindness, in the kitchen." Eli shook his head in frustration. Why were his supporters willing to throw their money at missions but not willing to truly love the people they were bent on saving? #Quote by Jody Hedlund

#49. Do you hear, darlink, what the new dishwasher wants to be called? An 'underwater ceramics engineer,' already! Abu doesn't believe his ears. He doesn't realize what a big shot he used to be in the kitchen. Ha! #Quote by Tom Robbins

#50. When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries. #Quote by Kenneth Grahame

#51. I learned a lot of details about 1920s clothes, cars, kitchen appliances, and food. I had a character eating peanut butter in one scene until I learned that peanut butter wasn't commercially packaged and sold until 1924. #Quote by Laura Moriarty

#52. These ways we have to settle. Moving house. I hate packing: collecting myself up, pulling myself apart. Stripping the body of the house: the walls, the floors, the shelves. Then I arrive, an empty house. It looks like a shell. How I love unpacking. Taking things out, putting things around, arranging myself all over the walls. I move around, trying to distribute myself evenly around the rooms. I concentrate on the kitchen. The familiar smell of spices fills the air. I allow the cumin to spill, and then gather it up again. I feel flung back somewhere else. I am never sure where the smell of spices takes me, as it had followed me everywhere. Each smell that gathers returns me somewhere; I am not always sure where that somewhere is. Sometimes the return is welcome, sometimes not. Sometimes it is tears or laughter that makes me realize that I have been pulled to another place and another time. Such memories can involve a recognition of how one's body already feels, coming after the event. The surprise when we find ourselves moved in this way or that. So we ask the question, later, and it often seems too late: what is it that has led me away from the present, to another place and another time? How is it that I have arrived here or there? #Quote by Sara Ahmed

#53. Ah'll clean 'em, you fry 'em and let's eat,' he said with the assurance of not being refused. They went out into the kitchen and fixed up the hot fish and corn muffins and ate. Then Tea Cake went to the piano without so much as asking and began playing blues and singing, and throwing grins over his shoulder. The sounds lulled Janie to soft slumber and she woke up with Tea Cake combing her hair and scratching the dandruff from her scalp. It made her more comfortable and drowsy. #Quote by Zora Neale Hurston

#54. I was at the end of the studio system so when I walked into movies, I had a magnificent suite in which I had a living room and a kitchen and a complete makeup room. I had everything just for me. With the independents, you're kind of roughing it, literally. #Quote by Tippi Hedren

#55. I serve him a portion of chocolate, pear and pepper tart with a glass of chilled rosé. I watch him eat, and think that, in the end, he didn't lie: he is eating in my restaurant. Except it's not supper time, so he did lie. I look at him and think he's feeding off me because I put all of myself into that first tart, that inaugural dessert. I kneaded gently, melted patiently, saved the juice as I sliced, then incorporated it into the pastry, with the Masai-black chocolate, my brown pastry in my hands, rolling it out and shaping it, rolling it out and shaping it, the pepper over the pears because I believe- in the kitchen as in other areas- in the mysterious power of alliteration. The peppercorns are dark on the outside and pale yellow on the inside, not crushed or ground. Sliced. My pepper-mill is a grater, creating tiny slices of spice. #Quote by Agnès Desarthe

#56. There is a peculiar burning odor in the room, like explosives. the kitchen fills with smoke and the hot, sweet, ashy smell of scorched cookies. The war has begun. #Quote by Alison Lurie

#57. No theory can be sacrosanct, and widespread acceptance of a theory does not guarantee its truth. #Quote by Kenneth A. Kitchen

#58. are important sources of emotional, creative and spiritual nourishment for me. It seems there is never enough space at our kitchen table; the children need a surface to draw on, between the flowers and fruit bowls, and sometimes it feels like a game of musical chairs to seat everyone #Quote by Louise Westerhout

#59. I have a fireplace in my kitchen that I light every night, no matter what. #Quote by Alice Waters

#60. THIS IS WHY

He will never be given to wonder much
if he was the mouth for some cruel force
that said it. But if he were
(this will comfort her) less than one moment
out of millions had he meant it.

So many years and so many turns
they had swerved around the subject.
And he will swear for many more
the kitchen and everything in it vanished --

the oak table, their guests, the refrigerator door
he had been surely propped against--
all changed to rusted ironwork and ash
except in the center in her linen caftan:
she was not touched.

He remembers the silence before he spoke
and her nodding a little,
as if in the meat of this gray waste
here was the signal

for him to speak what they had long agreed,
what somewhere they had prepared together.
And this one moment in the desert of ash
stretches into forever.

They had been having a dinner party.
She had been lonely.
A friend asked her almost joking
if she had ever felt really crazy,

and when she started to unwind her answer
in long, lovely sentences like scarves within her
he saw this was the way
they could no longer talk together.

And that is when he said it,
in front of the guests,
because he couldn't bear to hear her.
And this is why the guests have left
and she screams as he comes near her. #Quote by Michael Ryan

#61. Watch the Film You Paid to See"

In my bedroom my weight is three times more
than what I'd weigh on Jupiter.
If your kitchen was on Mercury I'd be heavier by half
of you while sitting at your table.
On Uranus, a quarter of my weight is meat,
or an awareness of myself as flesh.
On Venus the light would produce a real volume around me
that would make me look happy in photographs.
This is how it is with quantity in any life. It's a fact
that on certain planets I'd actually be able to mount
the stairs four at a time. Think of the most beautiful horse
in the world: a ridiculously beautiful golden horse,
with a shimmering coat; it would weigh no more
than an empty handbag on Mars. You need
to get real about these things. #Quote by Todd Colby

#62. The morning Julia found the phone, my parents were over for brunch. Everything was falling apart around Benjy, although I'll never know what he knew at the time, and neither will he. The adults were talking when he reentered the kitchen and said, "The sound of time. What happened to it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know," he said, waving his tiny hand about, "the sound of time."

It took time - about five frustrating minutes - to figure out what he was getting at. Our refigerator was being repaired, so the kitchen lacked its omnipresent, nearly imperceptible buzzing sound. He spent virtually all his home life within reach of that sound, and so had come to associate it with life happening.

I loved his misunderstanding, because it wasn't a misunderstanding.
My grandfather heard the cries of his dead brothers. That was the sound of his time.
My father heard attacks.
Julia heard the boys' voices.
I heard silences.
Sam heard betrayals and the sounds of Apple products turning on.
Max heard Argus's whining.
Benjy was the only one still young enough to hear home. #Quote by Jonathan Safran Foer

#63. Happy National Philanthropy Day! Do a good deed today and make the lives of others better.
Things you can do(if you can afford it):
a. Pay for a student to attend College or University
b. Make a donation to a bride and groom before they get married
c. Donate time to volunteer at a hospital or nursing home
d. Buy food and give it to a homeless individual
e. Volunteer at a soup kitchen #Quote by Kambiz Mostofizadeh

#64. When my mother died, my father was in a crisis, my sister was in a crisis, everyone was in a crisis. I went round the night my mother was lying in the kitchen, and I organised everything, from the undertaker to the funeral ... I looked after everybody, I sorted it all out and I've done so ever since. #Quote by Stuart Rose

#65. Buster Friendly said, "We may never know. Nor can we fathom the peculiar purpose behind this swindle. Yes, folks, swindle. Mercerism is a swindle!"

"I think we know," Roy Baty said. "It's obvious. Mercerism came into existence - "

"But ponder this," Buster Friendly continued. "Ask yourselves what is it that Mercerism does. Well, if we're to believe its many practitioners, the experience fuses - "

"It's that empathy that humans have," Irmgard said.

" - men and women throughout the Sol System into a single entity. But an entity which is manageable by the so-called telepathic voice of 'Mercer.' Mark that. An ambitious politically minded would-be Hitler could - "

"No, it's that empathy," Irmgard said vigorously. Fists clenched, she roved into the kitchen, up to Isidore. "Isn't it a way of proving that humans can do something we can't do? Because without the Mercer experience we just have your word that you feel this empathy business, this shared, group thing. How's the spider?" She bent over Pris's shoulder.

With the scissors, Pris snipped off another of the spider's legs. "Four now," she said. She nudged the spider. "He won't go. But he can."

Roy Baty appeared at the doorway, inhaling deeply, an expression of accomplishment on his face. "It's done. Buster said it out loud, and nearly every human in the system heard him say it. 'Mercerism is a swindle.' The whole experience of empathy is a swindle." He c #Quote by Philip K. Dick

#66. Pressure cookers are relatively inexpensive, they're in every kitchen store, your grandma probably had one, but a lot of people don't. A pressure cooker is interesting because by pressurizing the vessel, you're able to cook much hotter than the boiling point of water, and still have water be present. #Quote by Nathan Myhrvold

#67. I have already told you Father, more than once: I'm not going to subject myself to a husband chosen for me, I'm not going to bury myself in some planter's kitchen, and I'm not going to be a servant to some doctor or lawyer in Ilhéus. I want to live my own life. When I finish school at the end of the year, I want to go to work in an office #Quote by Jorge Amado

#68. Hey," Sean said as he stretched. "I just took Scout out."

"Thanks," Cade said.

Sean glanced back and noticed me. "Hey, Fallon." He smirked at Cade. "Well, guess I'll be heading to my room now."

Scout raised his head and his tail slapped against the couch.

"Three's a crowd, and all that." Sean ruffled the fur along Scout's neck. "Unless, of course, you're a dog." He stood and stretched again. "Oh, to be a dog in a crate."

Cade rolled his eyes at Sean's fly-on-a-wall reference. " 'Night, Sean," he grumbled.

"See you two crazy kids later." He strolled out of the room but paused and patted the kitchen wall. "Oh, and FYI, the shower in Cade's room backs to the kitchen."

God, Sean was like a male version of me. Poor Brinley, always having to put up with my crap. She was a damn good sport.

Cade just shook his head and muttered, "Jealous?"

"Fuck yeah, I am," Sean called back as he wandered down the hall. "I'm going to start calling you magic hands."

Though Sean was still fucking around, I sensed Cade losing his patience.

"It's not just his hands," I said.

Sean looked over his shoulder at me.

"I mean, call him what you want, but don't sell him short."

Sean just stared at me, surprised by either what I'd said or the fact I'd said anything at all.

I smiled in the way that always drove guys crazy, totally fake but filled with #Quote by Renita Pizzitola

#69. Speak, breathe, prophesy, get behind a pulpit and preach, mark exam papers, run a company or a nonprofit, clean your kitchen, put paint on a canvas, organize, rabble-rouse, find transcendence in the laundry pile while you pray in obscurity, deliver babies for Haitian mothers in the midwifery clinic - work the Love out and in and around you however God has made you and placed you to do it. Just do it. Don't let the lies fence you in or hold you back. #Quote by Sarah Bessey

#70. I was dishwasher, then promoted to chef in a local kitchen in a restaurant in Seattle, and I was working on a building site as well, putting in insulation and painting houses, and then doing some classes at a community college nearby. #Quote by Alexis Denisof

#71. She shut the door and put the string of keys back on top of the kitchen doorframe. 'You didn't lock it,' said Coraline. Her mother shrugged. 'Why should I lock it?' She asked. 'It doesn't go anywhere.' Coraline didn't say anything. #Quote by Neil Gaiman

#72. Kitchen solace - the feeling that a delicious meal is simmering on the kitchen stove, misting up the windows, and that at any moment your lover will sit down to dinner with you and, between mouthfuls, gaze happily into your eyes. (Also known as living.)" RECIPES THE CUISINE of Provence is as diverse as its scenery: fish by the coast, vegetables in the countryside, and in the mountains lamb and a variety of staple dishes containing pulses. One region's cooking is influenced by olive oil, another's is based on wine, and pasta dishes are common along the Italian border. East kisses West in Marseilles with hints of mint, saffron and cumin, and the Vaucluse is a paradise for truffle and confectionery lovers. Yet #Quote by Nina George

#73. That's all my grandfather was guilty of, fear, faith in his words, but that was a high crime in her eyes. That's all Jack was guilty of that day, but I've lived with him a good while and I believe I understand him. Sometimes it might take an afternoon or evening of being here in this kitchen alone, thinking, but I can usually come to see his reasons through his ways. And half the job of finding peace is finding understanding. Don't you believe it to be so? #Quote by Kaye Gibbons

#74. On the good days, my mother would haul out the ukulele and we'd sit around the kitchen table - it was a cardboard table with a linoleum top - and sing. #Quote by Carol Burnett

#75. Among the faithful, in the great kitchens of the world, Escoffier is to Careme what the New Testament is to the Old. #Quote by Andre Simon

#76. The blue mountains are constantly walking." Dōgen is quoting the Chan master Furong. -- "If you doubt mountains walking you do not know your own walking."

-- Dōgen is not concerned with "sacred mountains" - or pilgrimages, or spirit allies, or wilderness as some special quality. His mountains and streams are the processes of this earth, all of existence, process, essence, action, absence; they roll being and non-being together. They are what we are, we are what they are. For those who would see directly into essential nature, the idea of the sacred is a delusion and an obstruction: it diverts us from seeing what is before our eyes: plain thusness. Roots, stems, and branches are all equally scratchy. No hierarchy, no equality. No occult and exoteric, no gifted kids and slow achievers. No wild and tame, no bound or free, no natural and artificial. Each totally its own frail self. Even though connected all which ways; even because connected all which ways. This, thusness, is the nature of the nature of nature. The wild in wild.

So the blue mountains walk to the kitchen and back to the shop, to the desk, to the stove. We sit on the park bench and let the wind and rain drench us. The blue mountains walk out to put another coin in the parking meter, and go down to the 7-Eleven. The blue mountains march out of the sea, shoulder the sky for a while, and slip back to into the waters. #Quote by Gary Snyder

#77. I think I'll throw her in the garbage!" Caleb announces and heads for the kitchen.

"No, put her in the recycle bin," Josie giggles.

"You can't recycle mommies!" I call out and gently hit Caleb's back with my fists. #Quote by Kristen Proby

#78. In Floral Heights and the other prosperous sections of Zenith, especially in the "young married set," there were many women who had nothing to do. Though they had few servants, yet with gas stoves, electric ranges and dish-washers and vacuum cleaners, and tiled kitchen walls, their houses were so convenient that they had little housework, and much of their food came from bakeries and delicatessens. They had but two, one, or no children; and despite the myth that the Great War had made work respectable, their husbands objected to their "wasting time and getting a lot of crank ideas" in unpaid social work, and still more to their causing a rumor, by earning money, that they were not adequately supported. They worked perhaps two hours a day, and the rest of the time they ate chocolates, went to the motion-pictures, went window-shopping, went in gossiping twos and threes to card-parties, read magazines, thought timorously of the lovers who never appeared, and accumulated a splendid restlessness which they got rid of by nagging their husbands. The husbands nagged back. #Quote by Sinclair Lewis

#79. She took stamps
from the drawer in the kitchen
her father saw but didn't say
they drove
and she watched out the window
fingering them carefully
in her pocket
together they climbed the grassy hill
up to the acorn tree
stopping at a rock
perfectly carved
with a woman's name -
for a long time
and a careful time
she looked and thought
but never cried.
"Papa?"
she finally said,
"How many stamps
does it take to reach heaven?"
"One will do,
my love -"
And so,
she put one stamp on
and placed one inside
and left the letter
by her mother's side. #Quote by Atticus Poetry

#80. The kitchen of the body darkens the lives of lovers. Fasting came to enlighten them. #Quote by Rumi

#81. All men, at one time or another, have fallen in love with the veiled Isis whom they call Truth. With most, this has been a passing passion: they have early seen its hopelessness and turned to more practical things. But others remain all their lives the devout lovers of reality: though the manner of their love, the vision which they make to themselves of the beloved object varies enormously. Some see Truth as Dante saw Beatrice: an adorable yet intangible figure, found in this world yet revealing the next. To others she seems rather an evil but an irresistible enchantress: enticing, demanding payment and betraying her lover at the last. Some have seen her in a test tube, and some in a poet's dream: some before the altar, others in the slime. The extreme pragmatists have even sought her in the kitchen; declaring that she may best be recognized by her utility. Last stage of all, the philosophic sceptic has comforted an unsuccessful courtship by assuring himself that his mistress is not really there. #Quote by Evelyn Underhill

#82. At ABC Cocina and Kitchen, 90 percent of our produce and vegetables come from Union Square, and that's all from upstate New York farmers. We are simply committed to this idea of local, organic food. #Quote by Jean-Georges Vongerichten

#83. Her death the dividing mark: Before and After. And though it's a bleak thing to admit all these years later, still I've never met anyone who made me feel loved the way she did. Everything came alive in her company; she cast a charmed theatrical light about her so that to see anything through her eyes was to see it in brighter colours than ordinary – I remember a few weeks before she died, eating a late supper with her in an Italian restaurant down in the Village, and how she grasped my sleeve at the sudden, almost painful loveliness of a birthday cake with lit candles being carried in procession from the kitchen, faint circle of light wavering in across the dark ceiling and then the cake set down to blaze amidst the family, beatifying an old lady's face, smiles all round, waiters stepping away with their hands behind their backs – just an ordinary birthday dinner you might see anywhere in an inexpensive downtown restaurant, and I'm sure I wouldn't even remember it had she not died so soon after, but I thought about it again and again after her death and indeed I'll probably think about it all my life: that candlelit circle, a tableau vivant of the daily, commonplace happiness that was lost when I lost her #Quote by Donna Tartt

#84. Mornings in the kitchen, afternoons in the counseling room, evenings out combing streets of half-lamplight: Hermann Park, Montrose, Sunnyside, Hiram Clarke, the Fifth Ward. #Quote by Colum McCann

#85. Just like any one of us, they started with no road map or guarantee of success. But they went out and picked up the ball or the pen, the guitar or the kitchen knife, and took the first step. An then, the next. #Quote by Camille Sweeney

#86. Why do I feel the longing to rub my palms on my jeans? That perverted guy didn't touch me, yet I crave a shower. Instead, I go to the kitchen to wash my hands and drink some water. The acrid taste in my mouth will go away, as it always does, in a minute or so. #Quote by Jordan Night

#87. I clicked the gate shut and slipped down the alley. Through one fence after another, I caught glimpses of people in their dining rooms and living rooms, eating and watching TV dramas. Food smells drifted into the alley through kitchen windows and exhaust fans. One teenaged boy was practicing a fast passage on his electric guitar, with the volume turned down. In a second floor window, a tiny girl was studying at her desk, an earnest expression on her face. A married couple in a heated argument sent their voices out to the alley. A baby was screaming. A telephone rang. Reality spilled out into the alley like water from an overfilled bowl - as sound, as smell, as image, as plea, as response. #Quote by Haruki Murakami

#88. Slayde came out of the kitchen, long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, T-shirt dusted with flour, coffee in hand. If you wake the kids up before two, I'm going to beat you with a skillet. #Quote by Sean Michael

#89. I was 25 years old when I arrived in D.C. It was just myself and two people who worked and helped me in the kitchen. I was only cooking for three people most of the time. #Quote by Daniel Boulud

#90. She reached up and lay her hand on my cheek. "You have the sweetest face," she said, looking at me dreamily. "It's like the perfect kitchen."
I fought not to smile. This was the delirium. She'd fade in and out of it before the profound exhaustion dragged her down into unconsciousness. If you see someone spouting nonsense to themselves in an alleyway in Tarbean, odds are they're not actually crazy, just a sweet-eater deranged by too much denner. "A kitchen?"
"Yes," she said. "Everything matches and the sugar bowl is right where it should be. #Quote by Patrick Rothfuss

#91. We do this thing. We open our hearts to the world around us. And the more we do that, the more we allow ourselves to love, the more we are bound to find ourselves one day - like Dave, and Morley, and Sam, and Stephanie - standing in the kitchen of our live, surrounded by the ones we love, and feeling empty, and alone, and sad, and lost for words, because one of our loved ones, who should be there, is missing. Mother or father, brother or sister, wife or husband, or a dog or cat. It doesn't really matter. After a while, each death feels like all the deaths, and you stand there like eveyone else has stood there before you, while the big wind of sadness blows around and through you.
"He was a great dog," said Dave.
"Yes," said Morley. "He was a great dog. #Quote by Stuart McLean

#92. I'm a homebody, I'd rather be in the kitchen cooking than hanging out in a bar. #Quote by Milo Ventimiglia

#93. Will we have pets?" I bite back the question regarding kids. While this might be a fun fantasy, imagining being responsible for something like that is terrifying.
"Sure." Noah stays near the fire on one bent knee and occasionally pokes it to keep the dwindling flames alive. "I had a dog once."
"What type?"
"A mix of some sort. Part Lab, part something smaller than Lab. Its paws were too big for its body, so it skidded across the kitchen floor."
"Is that what you want?"
"If we're going to live alone on a mountain, we need a guard dog. A German shepherd. Something like that."
"Guard dog?" Not what I had in mind for the fantasy. "We need something cute and cuddly." I squish my fingers in the air as if I have the little puff ball in my hands. "It can sleep in our bed."
"No fucking way, Echo. I'm not sharing my bed with a dog. #Quote by Katie McGarry

#94. Cooking allows you to have travels, adventures and journeys without going anywhere. The running joke between my partner and me is that I'm not really concerned about how long it takes, or how much I destroy the kitchen, because I just have such a good time doing it. #Quote by Ted Allen

#95. Are you alone?" "No, I've got the local cricket team with me ready to have hot sex on your kitchen table. #Quote by Anonymous

#96. For the socially timid, the kitchen is the place to be. At least, it is a place to start. #Quote by Laurie Colwin

#97. Elvis is in the kitchen and he's making eggs Benedict! #Quote by Kathy Bryson

#98. Milos said, You're my first choice. From my point of view, that doesn't pay the rent. I said, Tell me what I have to do next because I'm busy painting my kitchen. #Quote by F. Murray Abraham

#99. My mother was, for the most part, delighted with my brother and regarded him with the bemused curiosity of a brood hen discovering she has hatched a completely different species. 'I think it was very nice of Paul to give me this vase,' she once said, arranging a bouquet of wildflowers into the skull-shaped bong my brother had left on the kitchen table. 'It's nontraditional, but that's the Rooster's way. He's a free spirit, and we're lucky to have him. #Quote by David Sedaris

#100. When I'm old and gray, I want to have a house by the sea. And paint. With a lot of wonderful chums, good music, and booze around. And a damn good kitchen to cook in. #Quote by Ava Gardner

#101. Oh, Kathleen!" sighed Nancy as the two went into the kitchen together. "Isn't mother the most interesting 'scolder' you ever listened to? I love to hear her do it, especially when somebody else is getting it. When it's I, I grow smaller and smaller, curling myself up like a little worm. Then when she has finished I squirm to the door and wriggle out. Other mothers say: 'If you don't, I shall tell your father!' 'Do as I tell you, and ask no questions.' 'I never heard of such behavior in my life!' 'Haven't you any sense of propriety?' 'If this happens again I shall have to do something desperate.' 'Leave the room at once,' and so on; but mother sets you to thinking."
"Mother doesn't really scold," Kathleen objected.
"No, but she shows you how wrong you are, just the same ... #Quote by Kate Douglas Wiggin

#102. Look, this isn't about the ring or when I ever made a hamburger, which, for your information, was my senior year of college."
"Right, when you almost caught our kitchen on fire."
"And you dated one of the firefighters for six months. You're welcome. Back to my problem. #Quote by Rachel Hauck

#103. I'm going to f*** you long and hard right here in this kitchen. #Quote by Avery Flynn

#104. I grew up in a modern home, but my grandmother lived across the street in an old house that was built when churches were illegal in Mexico. She had a chapel in the home, right between the kitchen and dining room. #Quote by Laura Esquivel

#105. Cooking without remuneration" and "slaving over a hot stove" are activities separated mostly by a frame of mind. The distinction is crucial. Career women in many countries still routinely apply passion to their cooking, heading straight from work to the market to search out the freshest ingredients, feeding their loved ones with aplomb. [...] Full-time homemaking may not be an option for those of us delivered without trust funds into the modern era. But approaching mealtimes as a creative opportunity, rather than a chore, is an option. Required participation from spouse and kids is an element of the equation. An obsession with spotless collars, ironing, and kitchen floors you can eat off of---not so much. We've earned the right to forget about stupefying household busywork. But kitchens where food is cooked and eaten, those were really a good idea. We threw that baby out with the bathwater. It may be advisable to grab her by her slippery foot and haul her back in here before it's too late. #Quote by Barbara Kingsolver

#106. Salad can get a bad rap. People think of bland and watery iceberg lettuce, but in fact, salads are an art form, from the simplest rendition to a colorful kitchen-sink approach. #Quote by Marcus Samuelsson

#107. If you're using technology in a way that opens out conversation in your family, with your friends, with people you care about, I'm for that. But if you're using technology to silence the conversations with the people around you, then you have to create sacred spaces in your home, the kitchen, the dining room, the car. #Quote by Judy Woodruff

#108. I was a really good waitress. Waitressing takes a certain gusto. You need a good memory and an ability to connect with people fast. You have to learn how to treat the kitchen as well as you treat the customers. You have to figure out which crazy people to listen to and which crazy people to ignore. I loved waiting tables because when you cashed out at the end of the night your job was truly over. You wiped down your section and paid out your busboy and you knew your work was done. #Quote by Amy Poehler

#109. The dog ran into the kitchen, stuck his nose in Grandma's crotch, and snuffled.
Dang," Grandma said. "Guess my new perfume really works. I'm gonna have to try it out at the seniors meeting. #Quote by Janet Evanovich

#110. Shame on you, Crispin. Married how long, and you haven't spanked your wife with a metal spatula yet?"
I'd gotten used to Ian's assumption that everyone was as perverted as he was, so I didn't miss a beat.
"We prefer blender beaters for our kitchen utensil kink," I said with a straight face.
Bones hid his smile behind his hand, but Ian looked intrigued.
"I haven't tried that ... oh, you're lying, aren't you?"
"Ya think?" I asked with a snort.
Ian gave a sigh of exaggerated patience and glanced at Bones.
"Being related to her through you is a real trial. #Quote by Jeaniene Frost

#111. Then headed for the kitchen.
Fuck.
I headed through the lounge ...
... just as two indistinct pitch-black masses, Kevlar laden, shotguns raised, crept ninja-like through the front door. This time, I didn't even get a bellowed warning. The lead ninja, upon seeing me, sprang forward ... and crushed me face flat to the floor.
That hurt.
It was five long hard seconds before he eased up an iota so I could take a breath,
"Hello again, Dennis. Busy night?" I managed from somewhere under his arm or knee or gun-butt. "Bean-bags or bullets?"
"Bullets," said Harry. "Easy up, lads. He's scarpered ... "
Dennis got off of me, locked his shotgun and helped me up,
"Sorry," he said.
"No worries ... #Quote by Morana Blue

#112. WHO'S GOT A TAMPON? I JUST GOT MY PERIOD, I will announce loudly to nobody in particular in a women's bathroom in a San Francisco restaurant, or to a co-ed dressing room of a music festival in Prague, or to the unsuspecting gatherers in a kitchen at a party in Sydney, Munich, or Cincinnati. Invariably, across the world, I have seen and heard the rustling of female hands through backpacks and purses, until the triumphant moment when a stranger fishes one out with a kind smile. No money is ever exchanged. The unspoken universal understanding is: Today, it is my turn to take the tampon. Tomorrow, it shall be yours. There is a constant, karmic tampon circle. It also exists, I've found, with Kleenex, cigarettes, and ballpoint pens. #Quote by Amanda Palmer

#113. John Isidore said, "I found a spider."

The three androids glanced up, momentarily moving their attention from the TV screen to him.

"Let's see it," Pris said. She held out her hand.

Roy Baty said, "Don't talk while Buster is on."

"I've never seen a spider," Pris said. She cupped the medicine bottle in her palms, surveying the creature within. "All those legs. Why's it need so many legs, J. R.?"

"That's the way spiders are," Isidore said, his heart pounding; he had difficulty breathing. "Eight legs."

Rising to her feet, Pris said, "You know what I think, J. R.? I think it doesn't need all those legs."

"Eight?" Irmgard Baty said. "Why couldn't it get by on four? Cut four off and see." Impulsively opening her purse, she produced a pair of clean, sharp cuticle scissors, which she passed to Pris.

A weird terror struck at J. R. Isidore.

Carrying the medicine bottle into the kitchen, Pris seated herself at J. R. Isidore's breakfast table. She removed the lid from the bottle and dumped the spider out. "It probably won't be able to run as fast," she said, "but there's nothing for it to catch around here anyhow. It'll die anyway." She reached for the scissors.

"Please," Isidore said.

Pris glanced up inquiringly. "Is it worth something?"

"Don't mutilate it," he said wheezingly. Imploringly.

With the scissors, Pris snipped off one of the spider's #Quote by Philip K. Dick

#114. I snored myself awake, jerking my head up to find the others staring at me.
"What?" I asked my mouth dry from having fallen open. Wiping drool from my chin. I couldn't help but notice the amused expression on their faces.
"It sounded like you swallowed a hairball," offered Elorie from the kitchen.
"My bad," I replied. #Quote by Shana Festa

#115. My favorite of all was still the place on Vermont, the French cafe, La Lyonnaise, that had given me the best onion soup on that night with George and my father. The two owners hailed from France, from Lyon, before the city had boomed into a culinary sibling of Paris. Inside, it had only a few tables, and the waiters served everything out of order, and it had a B rating in the window, and they usually sat me right by the swinging kitchen door, but I didn't care about any of it.
There, I ordered chicken Dijon, or beef Bourguignon, or a simple green salad, or a pate sandwich, and when it came to the table, I melted into whatever arrived. I lavished in a forkful of spinach gratin on the side, at how delighted the chef had clearly been over the balance of spinach and cheese, like she was conducting a meeting of spinach and cheese, like a matchmaker who knew they would shortly fall in love. Sure, there were small distractions and preoccupations in it all, but I could find the food in there, the food was the center, and the person making the food was so connected with the food that I could really, for once, enjoy it. #Quote by Aimee Bender

#116. Maybe that's enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom ... is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go. -Anthony Bourdain #Quote by Anthony Bourdain

#117. From then on, right up to this day, I fear that I walk funny, in other words, that I walk like a woman. When I find myself walking at my own pace, I almost immediately slow down. And I learned what men do not do. They do not wet their dry lips by running their tongues over them. They don't trot after their mothers into the kitchen. They don't use face powder. They don't sit on a motorbike behind a woman. They don't need mirrors in the rooms where they might change their clothes. On trips, they can go behind a tree. They don't even need an enclosed space to take a dump; they can do it in the open. They shouldn't be afraid of other people seeing their bodies. If there's only one bathroom, they can bathe in the open. When caned in class, they do not cry. They do not buy tamarind from the lady who sells it on the road and they certainly do not sit by her side and eat it. #Quote by Sachin Kundalkar

#118. The kitchen. La cucina, the true mother country, this warm cave of the good witch deep in the desolate land of loneliness, with pots of sweet potions bubbling over the fire, a cavern of magic herbs, rosemary and thyme and sage and oregano, balm of lotus that brought sanity to lunatics, peace to the troubled, joy to the joyless, this small twenty-by-twenty world, the altar a kitchen range, the magic circle a checkered tablecloth where the children fed, the old children, lured back to their beginnings, the taste of mother's milk still haunting their memories, fragrance in the nostrils, eyes brightening, the wicked world receding as the old mother witch sheltered her brood from the wolves outside. #Quote by John Fante

#119. I suppose you had to," Wes said when Phin went back to join him at the table.
"Pretty much. She seduced me."
"Yeah, right," Wes said. "She said, 'Please fix the kitchen drain,' and you interpreted that
"
"She said, 'Fuck me.' " Phin put two balls on the table and picked up his cue. "I interpreted that to mean she wanted sex."
"Oh." Wes picked up his cue. "That would have been my call, too." He squinted at the table. "Why would she have said that?"
"On a guess? Because she wanted sex. #Quote by Jennifer Crusie

#120. Ain't no sun in the kitchen without your face lookin' up at me. #Quote by Beth Hoffman

#121. Umm, Ren? We have something important we need to discuss. Meet me on the veranda at sundown, okay?"
He froze with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. "A secret rendezvous? On the veranda? At sundown?" He arched an eyebrow at me. "Why, Kelsey, are you trying to seduce me?"
"Hardly," I dryly muttered.
He laughed. "Well, I'm all yours. But be gentle with me tonight, fair maiden. I'm new at this whole being human business."
Exasperated, I threw out, "I am not your fair maiden."
He ignored my comment and went back to devouring his lunch. He also took the other half of my discarded peanut butter sandwich and ate that too, commenting, "Hey! This stuff's pretty good."
Finished, I walked over to the kitchen island and began clearing away Ren's mess. When he was done eating, he stood to help me. We worked well together. It was almost like we knew what the other person was going to do before he or she did it. The kitchen was spotless in no time. Ren took off his apron and threw it into the laundry basket. Then, he came up behind me while I was putting away some glasses and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me up against him.
He smelled my hair, kissed my neck, and murmured softly in my ear, "Mmm, definitely peaches and cream, but with a hint of spice. I'll go be a tiger for a while and take a nap, and then I can save all my hours for you this evening."
I grimaced He was probably expecting a make-out session, and I was planning to break up w #Quote by Colleen Houck

#122. There's nothing tiny or insignificant. Everything is significant. And everything flows on the same basis of Laws. Whether you are looking at world events or something that's happening in your kitchen drawer, broad and important, or narrow and seemingly insignificant, there's potential for connection or disconnection in either case. And it is only the connection or the disconnection that is of really any importance. #Quote by Esther Hicks

#123. He picked up one of Lorna's roses and set it in my lap. "Here." I picked it up and smelled it. He poked me in the shoulder. "See what I mean? Thorns don't stop you from sniffing. Or putting them in a vase on the kitchen table. You work around them ... Cause the rose is worth it ... Think what you'd miss. #Quote by Charles Martin

#124. The clock in the kitchen chimed and Anna looked up. The first batch of cookies would be ready any moment; then it would be time to put it in another tray. After that, there were four different types of bread, krumkaker (she wouldn't fill them with cream in this heat), and at least two spice cakes to make. Her mother hated the idea of her baking cakes that might not sell ("The ingredients cost money"), but Anna knew people would want them, and they made a tidy profit off cakes. It was a win-win. #Quote by Jen Calonita

#125. So I sat at the kitchen table chopping the "holy trinity" of Creole cuisine - bell peppers, celery, and onions - #Quote by Rysa Walker

#126. I would return home to la maison, feminine where, as likely as not, I would go to my room, la chambre, where I would settle to read un livre masculine, until supper. During the masculine meal, feminine food would be eaten. After my hard, productive masculine day, I would rest during the feminine night. At one time, for a few days, I even took an affected aversion to being in the kitchen, la cuisine. #Quote by Yann Martel

#127. We have more patience for girls who act like boys than boys who act like girls. A tomboy is considered cute. One day she'll shuck her muddy jeans and put on a dress, and everyone will gasp at her beauty. They'll all laugh about her tree-climbing, frog-catching days.
But there's no such tolerance for the boy who puts on a dress, who wants a toy kitchen or a baby doll to love. Jung would say that this is because, even culturally, our anima is repressed, hated, derided. We hate our female selves. A boyish girl is perfectly acceptable. A girlish boy? Not so much. In certain places, you'd get your ass kicked, find yourself "gay-bashed." You might even get yourself killed. That's how much we hate our anima. #Quote by Lisa Unger

#128. Dinner is where the magic happens in the kitchen. #Quote by Kris Carr

#129. Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don't look awful this time.
Me (Ilona): ...

~A little later~

Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen*
Kid 1: Hey, you've got to see these pies. *opening the stove*
Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time.
Kid 1: I know, right? #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#130. She opens her eyes slowly. It takes her a moment to adjust to the bright kitchen light, shining in her eyes. "Can we rearrange the furniture this weekend?" she asks sleepily. "So when I sleep out here, you don't shine all of Satan's fiery hell lights in my eyes first thing in the morning? #Quote by Lisa McMann

#131. The balloon pops and I walk across a kitchen on a rainy day in February to check on eggs and bread and wine and sanity to check on glue to paste nice pictures on these walls. #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#132. Calla." My mother's coaxing voice stopped me. "It is of course perfectly acceptable for Renier to call on you, but remember that you are a lady. Don't bring shame on yourself by making poor choices."
"No, of course not." I kept my eyes on the hardwood floor, thinking about Shay's kiss and how much more I'd wanted from him.
A sly smile hovered on Ren's lips when I returned to the kitchen table.
If he heard what Mom said, I'm going to kill her. #Quote by Andrea Cremer

#133. Imaginative cook, and her experiments weren't always edible. I was surprised, and sad, that he seemed to remember that far back. "Steak and potatoes," I answered, and he looked relieved. He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered #Quote by Stephenie Meyer

#134. When you didn't let a woman help, it was a way of keeping her at a distance, of letting her know that she wasn't family, of saying I don't like you enough to let you into my kitchen. #Quote by Liane Moriarty

#135. Daisy was still lingering in the kitchen when they arrived, and when she saw Steven she shook a wooden spoon at him. "I raised this chile to be a good girl," she warned. "Don't you go messin' with her, hear?" The beginnings of a grin quirked Steven's lips, but he didn't quite give in to it. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Emma #Quote by Linda Lael Miller

#136. One of the leading causes of divorce is sexual incompatibility. Why not mandate premarital sex, overseen, of course, by the Marriage Board to ensure that it was carried out and completed as required? The final exam question could be: "Was it good for you two?" For good measure, the engaged couple should be required to work together on a home improvement project like installing a kitchen sink or finishing a basement. That's the ultimate test of a marital relationship. #Quote by Mike Rosen

#137. The two officers followed Mom out of the kitchen, passing untouched rolls, stuffing, and a turkey resting in its own congealed juices on a platter. I stared at our spoiled Thanksgiving dinner. #Quote by Alina Klein

#138. Sometimes I take her food from the Iranian restaurant she and Ollie liked - the Sunny Acres kitchen staff is happy to warm it up - and sometimes I bring her a DVD or two. She likes the oldies, like with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. I always bring her something, and she's always happy to see me. On her good days she does see me. On her bad ones, she's apt to call me Olivia. Or Charlotte. That's my aunt. I also have an uncle. #Quote by Stephen King

#139. When I'm doing kitchen planning as well as bathroom design, I try to walk through the day with the homeowner. If we're talking about a kitchen, it will be: So, we are walking in with the groceries. When we are taking them out of the car, where will they go? What is the distance to fridge, to pantry? #Quote by Candice Olson

#140. Hockey and cooking are similar in so many ways, especially if you are a player-coach, the guy in charge on the ice, a role I would closely relate to that of a chef in the kitchen - they are both contact sports.

You've gotta keep your head up, keep moving and communicate well. Even though you might be the leader in the kitchen or on the ice, you need to understand that that you're part of a working machine and that machine stops working if one of the pieces isn't working in unison with the others. I learned from a very young age the importance of being part of this team dynamic and how hard work can take you to so many different places.

(Chef Duane Keller) #Quote by Chris Hill

#141. Tomorrow, I'm going to a soup kitchen in Mobile. I think that will symbolize the insensitivity of this administration to human needs. #Quote by Walter F. Mondale

#142. For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we've all had to become disappears, when we're confronted with something as simple as a plate of food. #Quote by Anthony Bourdain

#143. Oh my God, I grew up in the kitchen. Absolutely. The kitchen, for me, is home. #Quote by Princess Tatiana Of Greece And Denmark

#144. Good night's sleep?' she enquired, still smiling.

'For Wing, certainly,' Otto replied, 'though possibly not anyone within a hundred yards of him. If whales snore, that's what it sounds like.'

Wing smiled guiltily. 'I did warn you.'

'It's a sign of a good healthy set of lungs, at least that's what my dad always used to tell me,' Laura said, chuckling, 'though I think there were a few nights where my mum was not far from taking a kitchen knife and checking to see if his were as healthy as he claimed, if you know what I mean.'

Otto nodded in agreement. 'I wonder if you snore after you get hit with a sleeper?'

'Don't even think about it,' Wing replied. #Quote by Mark Walden

#145. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes, but I laugh, and eat well, and grow strong. #Quote by Langston Hughes

#146. Pork - no animal is more used for nourishment and none more indispensable in the kitchen; employed either fresh or salt, all is useful, even to its bristles and its blood; it is the superfluous riches of the farmer, and helps to pay the rent of the cottager. #Quote by Alexis Soyer

#147. Scream at the mangled leather carcass lying at the foot of the stairs, and my parents would roar with laughter. That's what you get for leaving your wallet on the kitchen table. #Quote by David Sedaris

#148. The house is in turmoil with records on every space. In the kitchen and in the dining room is covered with records. I don't have a big enough house to accommodate everything. #Quote by Marian McPartland

#149. One day, when my son was eight, he came into the kitchen while I was cooking and said: 'You put bad words in your books, don't you?' No doubt he had overheard my mother, who often tells people who ask about my work: 'Well, you'll never find her books in the Christian bookstore.' #Quote by Jill McCorkle

#150. After that, anytime she caught me near a kitchen she'd start in on me. So I have an automatic sphincter clench any time I reach for a pan. (Devyn) #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#151. Do you believe in God, Agent Garrett?" Julian asked suddenly, his eyes on the hallway. The question caught Zane off guard, but he wasn't sure that was Julian's goal. Religion didn't have much place in Zane's life anymore, like a lot of other things. But did he believe? "Yeah," he said quietly. Zane figured he'd have long ago been in the ground if it wasn't for some higher power watching out for him. Julian was nodding. "You should. It's a bloody miracle your partner has lived this long," he murmured. He began moving toward the kitchen. "Man's an idiot," he muttered under his breath as he passed Zane. #Quote by Abigail Roux

#152. If people are made to feel uncomfortable in the kitchen, they won't go in there. That's why I think children learning to cook can be such a wonderful thing. #Quote by Giada De Laurentiis

#153. I even dispose of my sleeping pills. Anything that can be a crutch to me, I pitch. Except for the three bottles of whiskey that I have in the kitchen. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf- I haven't gone fucking insane. #Quote by Courtney Cole

#154. I remember at The Quilted Giraffe, when I was when working there to try out for the sous-chef position. I really wanted it, and the woman working the line next to me kept messing up and making me look bad. The last day of my kitchen trail, I just said to her very quietly, 'Do me a favor and get out of my way, because I want this job.' #Quote by Tom Colicchio

#155. They're not much different from kitchen trash bags, though I'm sure they cost $50,000 because of NASA. #Quote by Andy Weir

#156. As long as women are denied the priesthood, we will try to make our own rituals at our own kitchen altars and we will sew our own magical capes at our own sewing machines #Quote by Erica Jong

#157. It was a sunrise, a kid's sight of snowfall on a school morning. Hope. That all this can turn out okay, that somehow a tide this big and black can be turned back. Hope like a wildfire, thoughts of presents under a Christmas tree and a smell of cookies coming from a kitchen and a certain look in a girl's eyes that lights you up inside. That beautiful border between nightmare and morning when you realize that all of the monsters menacing you have evaporated like smoke, leaving behind only the warm blanket and the pale sunlight of a Saturday dawn. #Quote by David Wong

#158. The night before I left home, there was the wake in our kitchen as was the custom for anyone going so far away. The kitchen was full of people, two men left their flash lamps lit #Quote by Edna O'Brien

#159. It was this: Gansey starting down the stairs to the kitchen, Blue starting up, meeting in the middle. It was Gansey stepping aside to let her pass, but changing his mind. He caught her arm and then the rest of her. She was warm, alive, vibrant beneath the thin cotton; he was warm, alive, vibrant beneath his. Blue slid her hand over his bare shoulder and then on to his chest, her palm spread out flat on his breastbone, her fingers pressed curiously into his skin.
I thought you would be hairier, she whispered.
Sorry to disappoint. The legs have a bit more going on.
Mine too. #Quote by Maggie Stiefvater

#160. My kitchen linoleum is so black and shiny that I waltz while I wait for the kettle to boil. This pleasure is for the old who live alone. #Quote by Florida Scott-Maxwell

#161. One of my favorite traditions is that my sisters and I, we all wear the same pajamas. I've even still got some from when I was 6. Also, I'll always remember cooking together in the kitchen and that no matter how busy our schedules are, we are all together for Christmas. #Quote by Bailee Madison

#162. The house smells like an Italian restaurant when I walk through the door. I turn to Logan, who shoots me a WTF look, and I shrug as if to say fuck if I know, because I honestly don't know. I bend down to unlace my scuffed black boots, then follow the mouthwatering aroma to the kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I blink like I've just stumbled upon a desert mirage.

Hannah's sexy ass greets my eyes. She's angled over the oven door, wearing Tuck's pink oven mitts as she pulls a steaming pan of lasagna off the middle shelf. At the sound of my footsteps, she glances over her shoulder and smiles. "Oh, hey. Perfect timing. #Quote by Elle Kennedy

#163. We used to all come outside when the streetlights came on and prowl the neighborhood in a pack, a herd of kids on banana-seat bikes and minibikes. The grown-ups looked so silly framed in their living-room and kitchen windows. They complained about their days and sighed deep sighs of depression and loss. They talked about how spoiled and lucky children were these days. We will never be that way, we said, we will never say those things. #Quote by Jill McCorkle

#164. Leon's life was all about discipline. He'd heard a weight-loss guru once explain that the key to maintaining a slim figure was to really "listen to your body" and only eat until it signaled that it was full. Leon had listened to his body. It wanted three entire pepperoni and mushroom pizzas every single day, plus a rather large cake. And malted milkshakes, the old fashioned kind you could make in your kitchen with an antique Hamilton Beech machine in avocado-colored plastic, served up in a tall red anodized aluminum cup. Leon's body was extremely verbose on what it wanted him to shovel into it. So Leon ignored his body. #Quote by Cory Doctorow

#165. and well-informed insights into their insular world. We all took our seats as a picture of a smiling Paul Verdun in toque was projected up onto screens. White jackets streamed from the kitchen: the amuse-bouche, a shot glass filled with a bite-sized baby octopus cooked in its "natural essence," extra virgin olive oil from Puglia, and a single #Quote by Richard C. Morais

#166. The ideal kitchen-sink novel: Throw in everything but the kitchen sink. Then add the kitchen sink. #Quote by Edward Abbey

#167. Needless to say he had a newfound respect for that blind vampire.
There were very few things iAm hadn't been able to move in his adult life.
He'd changed a tire while acting as his own tire iron.
Had been known to walk vats of sauce big as washing machines around a kitchen.
Hell, he'd even actually relocated a washer and dryer without thinking much about it.
And then he'd had to lift that truck off his brother about two years ago.
Another example of Trez's love life getting out of control.
But down in the training center with Wrath?
There'd been no budging that fucker. The King had been bulldog-locked on - and the expression on his face? No emotion, not even a grimace of effort. And that body - viciously strong.
iAm shook his head as he crossed that apple tree in full bloom. Trying to budge Wrath had been like pulling on a boulder. Nothing moved; nothing gave.
That canine had gotten through, though. Thank God.
Now, ordinarily, iAm didn't like animals in the house - and he definitely wasn't a dog person. They were too big, too dependent, the shedding - too much. But he respected that golden whatever it was now -
Meeeeeeeeeeeerowwwwwwwwwwwwww.
"Fuck!"
Speak of the devil. As the queen's black cat wound its way around his feet, he was forced to Michael Jackson it over the damn thing so he didn't step on it.
"Damn it, cat!"
The feline followed him all the way into the kitchen, always w #Quote by J.R. Ward

#168. I'm always traveling, so I tend to online shop. My go-to sites are Net-a-Porter and Matches. I recently moved to N.Y.C. and frequently shop at Sur La Table for my kitchen; Flair home collection, Aedes de Venustas for all my favorite home fragrances. #Quote by Jourdan Dunn

#169. A boy I know named Michael, the oldest often children, came home one night intoxicated with E. When he saw the family's pet Labrador in the kitchen he strangled it to death, convinced that it was the devil. The dog bit him and there was blood all over the kitchen. The siblings who ran in to watch the aftermath of the scene were traumatized. Michael is now in drug rehab recovering from addiction. #Quote by Sean Covey

#170. 'Cooking Lucky' is a show for guys - or girls - or really for anyone who is all thumbs in the kitchen and needs some help cooking meals that are so incredibly impressive they make it look like you've been slaving in the kitchen all day when in reality, they are so effortless to put together that even a moron can do it. #Quote by Eden Riegel

#171. I find him cracking open a beer in the kitchen.
Jeez, doesn't the guy know the dangers of alcohol poisoning? #Quote by Joanne McClean

#172. I always imagined rape as this violent scene of a woman walking alone down a dark alley and getting mugged and beaten by some masked criminal. Rape was an angry man forcing himself inside a damsel in distress. I would not carry the trauma of a cliché rape victim. I would not shriek in the midst of my slumber with night terrors. I would not tremble at the sight of every dark haired man or the mention of Number 1's name. I would not even harbor ill will towards him. My damage was like a cigarette addiction- subtle, seemingly innocent, but everlasting and inevitably detrimental.
Number 1 never opened his screen door to furious crowds waving torches and baseball bats. Nobody punched him out in my honor. The Nightfall crowd never socially ostracized him. Even the ex-boyfriend who'd second handedly fused the entire fiasco continued to mingle with him in drug circles. Everybody continued with business as usual. And when I told my parents I lost my virginity against my will, unconscious on a bathroom floor, Carl did not erupt in fury and demand I give him all I knew about his whereabouts so he could greet him with a rifle. Mom blankly shrugged and mumbled, "Oh, that's too bad," and drifted into the kitchen as if I'd received a stubbed toe rather than a shredded hymen.
Everyone in my life took my rape as lightly as a brief thunderstorm that might have been frightening when it happened, but was easy to forget about. I adopted that mentality as the foundation of my sex life #Quote by Maggie Georgiana Young

#173. When Tyler got back, she was making minestrone. It always knocked him back a step to see her
working in the kitchen. #Quote by Nora Roberts

#174. I want to die."
May shook her head. "Let me get a knife."
"I've made a horrible mess of things."
"Haven't we all? If you don't want your supper burned, die quietly while I get back to the kitchen. #Quote by B. J. Daniels

#175. Why are you making that face?" he asked suddenly.

I blinked up at him, caught off guard. I raised my eyebrows, trying to play dumb. "What face?"

It didn't work.

With a fork hanging out of his mouth, he narrowed his dark eyes just the slightest bit. "That one." He gestured toward me with his chin.

I shrugged in an 'I don't know what you're talking about' expression.

"Is there something you want to say?"

There were a hundred things I wanted to tell him on a regular basis, but I knew him too well. He didn't really care if there was something I wanted to say or not. He didn't care if my opinion was different from his or if I thought he should do something differently. He was just reminding me who the boss was.

AKA not me.

Asswipe.

"Me?" I blinked. "Nope."

He gave me a lazy glare before his eyes lowered to focus on the hand I had hidden on the other side of the kitchen island. "Then quit flipping me off. I'm not changing my mind about the signing," he said in a deceptively casual voice.

I pressed my lips together as I dropped my hand. He was a goddamn witch. I swear on my life, he was a freaking witch. A wizard. An oracle. A person with a third eye. Every single time I had ever flipped him off, he'd been aware of it. I didn't think I was that obvious about it either. #Quote by Mariana Zapata

#176. One did not know when Begum Jaan's life began - whether it was when she committed the mistake of being born or when she came to the Nawab's house as his bride, climbed the four-poster bed and started counting her days. Or was it when she watched through the drawing room door the increasing number of firm-calved, supple- waisted boys and delicacies begin to come for them from the kitchen! Begum Jaan would have glimpses of them in their perfumed, flimsy shirts and feel as though she was being raked over burning embers! #Quote by Ismat Chugtai

#177. Mother made sure her little kids were subjected to a strict routine. We were given a timetable which covered our every waking moment, copies of which were posted by our bedside, in the sitting room and in the kitchen. Story hour meant that mother would read us novels and short stories by Guy de Maupassant, Oscar Wilde and Edmondo de Amicis. Soon we graduated to Tolstoy, Gogol and Turgenev. She read them to us in Chinese and I never realised until much later that the writers wrote them in different European languages. Comics were absolutely forbidden and so were Enid Blyton adventures and pop music ... Lee Cyn and I soon went to a primary school nearby ... After mother's rigorous timetable, school became fun and easy-going. #Quote by Ang Swee Chai

#178. My definition of art is whatever an artist calls art. Us speaking could be an artwork, us sitting in the near-dark in your kitchen beside the dirty dishes and smoking, me thinking of what to say next. #Quote by Matthew Brannon

#179. When you make the film, it's like a chef who works on the meal. After you're working all day in the kitchen and dicing and cutting and putting the sauces on, you don't want to eat it. That's how I always feel about the films. I work on it for a year. I've written it, I've worked with the actors, I've edited, put the music in. I just never want to see it again. #Quote by Woody Allen

#180. I started to take a keen interest in food when I was 16 years old. When I was a young teenager my mother always encouraged my brother, my sister and I to get involved in the kitchen - stirring and smelling things so we would understand how things were made. #Quote by Ainsley Harriott

#181. I was in bed at my beach house, but could not sleep because of some fried chicken in the icebox that I felt entitled to. I waited till my wife dropped off, and tiptoed into the kitchen. I remembered looking at the clock. It was precisely four-fifteen. I'm quite certain of this, because our kitchen clock has not worked in twenty-one years and is always at that time. I also noticed that our dog, Judas, was acting funny. He was sanding up on his hind legs and singing, 'I Enjoy Being a Girl.' Suddenly the room turned bright orange. At first, I thought my wife had caught me eating between meals and set fire to the house. Then I looked out the window, where to my amazement I saw a gigantic cigar-shaped aircraft hovering just over the treetops in the yard and emitting an orange glow. I stood transfixed for what must have been several hours, though our clock still read four-fifteen, so it was difficult to tell. Finally, a large, mechanical claw extended from the aircraft and snatched the two pieces of chicken from my hand and quickly retreated. When I reported the incident to the Air Force, they told me that what I had seen was a flock of birds. When I protested, Colonel Quincy Bascomb personally promised that the Air Force would return the two pieces of chicken. To this day, I have only received one piece. #Quote by Woody Allen

#182. A lot of Thanksgiving days have been ruined by not carving the turkey in the kitchen. #Quote by Kin Hubbard

#183. I sat at a table in my shadowy kitchen, staring down a bottle of Boone's Farm
Hard Lemonade, when a magic fluctuation hit. My wards shivered and died, leaving my home stripped of its defenses. The TV flared into life, unnaturally loud in the empty house.
I raised my eyebrow at the bottle and bet it that another urgent bulletin was on.
The bottle lost.
"Urgent bulletin!" Margaret Chang announced. "The Attorney General advises all citizens that any attempt at summoning or other activities resulting in the appearance of a supernaturally powerful being can be hazardous to yourself and to other citizens."
"No shit," I told the bottle. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#184. A sweeping vista of Northern sky opens up between the warehouses and hangs motionless above the cobbled streets. It's a world of unrequited love beneath the smoke stacks and awkward moments in the underpass. A great crashing wave of romantic despair that washes over my dramatic heart, dousing it with a thin grey rinse. I'm James Dean, I'm Albert Camus, I posture in doorways with a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of my mouth. My great iron bedstead, my kitchen sink drama, the grainy black and white days of this life... #Quote by Neil Schiller

#185. Fine!" she shouted at it.
"Okay!" shouted a man in a nearby booth at a stain on his tie.
In the kitchen, another man, in a floral apron and a hairnet, nodded at a tub of soaking dishes "Yep," he said.
People often found themselves assenting to inanimate objects in the Moonlight All-Nite. #Quote by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor

#186. Women should be in the kitchen, the discotheque and the boutique, but not in football. #Quote by Ron Atkinson

#187. He went into the kitchen. It was eight in the evening. He tried to shut the bright spring evening out with the curtains, but it forced its way past them in places, dust-filled sunbeams that lit up the gloom in his flat. Spring and summer were not Erlendur's seasons. Too bright. Too frivolous. He wanted heavy, dark winters. Finding nothing edible in the kitchen, he sat down at the table with his chin resting in his hand. #Quote by Arnaldur Indridason

#188. I wander around the house and write in bed, at the kitchen table, by the window, in the yard. #Quote by Sarah Hall

#189. Buckley followed the three of them into the kitchen and asked, as he had at least once a day, "Where's Susie?"

They were silent. Samuel looked at Lindsey.

"Buckley," my father called from the adjoining room, "come play Monopoly with me."

My brother had never been invited to play Monopoly. Everyone said he was too young, but this was the magic of Christmas. He rushed into the family room, and my father picked him up and sat him on his lap.

"See this shoe?" my father said.

Buckley nodded his head.

"I want you to listen to everything I say about it, okay?"

"Susie?" my brother asked, somehow connecting the two.

"Yes, I'm going to tell you where Susie is."

I began to cry up in heaven. What else was there for me to do?

"This shoe was the piece Susie played Monopoly with," he said. "I play with the car or sometimes the wheelbarrow. Lindsey plays with the iron, and when you mother plays, she likes the cannon."

"Is that a dog?"

"Yes, that's a Scottie."

"Mine!"

"Okay," my father said. He was patient. He had found a way to explain it. He held his son in his lap, and as he spoke, he felt Buckley's small body on his knee-the very human, very warm, very alive weight of it. It comforted him. "The Scottie will be your piece from now on. Which piece is Susie's again?"

"The shoe?" Buckley asked.

"Right, and I'm the car, #Quote by Alice Sebold

#190. Any good kitchen should be stocked up in oysters, shouldn't they? #Quote by Michael Fassbender

#191. So much held in a heart in a lifetime. So much held in a heart in a day, an hour, a moment. We are utterly open with no one, in the end -- not mother and father, not wife or husband, not lover, not child, not friend. We open windows to each but we live alone in the house of the heart. Perhaps we must. Perhaps we could not bear to be so naked, for fear of a constantly harrowed heart. When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always; when we are older we know this is the dream of a child, that all hearts finally are bruised and scarred, scored and torn, repaired by time and will, patched by force of character, yet fragile and rickety forevermore, no matter how ferocious the defense and how many bricks you bring to the wall. You can brick up your heart as stout and tight and hard and cold and impregnable as you possibly can and down it comes in an instant, felled by a woman's second glance, a child's apple breath, the shatter of glass in the road, the words 'I have something to tell you,' a cat with a broken spine dragging itself into the forest to die, the brush of your mother's papery ancient hand in a thicket of your hair, the memory of your father's voice early in the morning echoing from the kitchen where he is making pancakes for his children. #Quote by Brian Doyle

#192. Tell me that you didn't break the ban, Rory. Tell me that there aren't two Bradfords beating the shit out of each other over the last slice of cheese in my kitchen. #Quote by R.L. Mathewson

#193. She dampened her lips. "I . . . I have defenses you don't know of, and" - she gestured to the half wall revealing the kitchen beyond - "I have pepper spray in the kitchen."
"Pepper spray in the kitchen," he said tonelessly.
"All right, all right!" She dropped the bag with the box on a coffee table that held a few large picture books on the Old West and hurried into the kitchen, coming back with the pepper spray, which she stuck on a bookcase shelf next to the door. He took it down and checked the expiration date. "You should have tossed this two years ago. #Quote by Robin D. Owens

#194. Every day," he whispered, "I'll take you like this. In the morning, before coffee, I fuck you. At night, I fuck you harder. In our bedroom, our living room, our kitchen, I'll love you in every room. Amore mio, I'll break you with my love and put you back together. And when I retire, you still call me Capo because you're mine. Always mine. #Quote by C.D. Reiss

#195. Back in the kitchen, Mummy was trying to make her [knitted] hippo stand up on the table. I had to swallow a gasp of horror -- its head was the same size as its body, none of its limbs were equal in length, and it appeared to have a fin. She didn't seem perturbed and carried on trying to make it stand with a childlike patience.
Because of its grotesquely misshapen head, it looked as if it was trying to do some kind of yoga headstand.
"That hippo's got five legs," observed Allegra from the window seat. "Unless you've made it very anatomically correct? In which case it's positively disturbing. #Quote by Hester Browne

#196. I need fiction, I am an addict. This is not a figure of speech. I don't quite read a novel a day, but I certainly read some of a novel every day, and usually some of several. There is always a heap of opened paperbacks face down near the bed, always something current on the kitchen table to reach for over coffee when I wake up. Colonies of prose have formed in the bathroom and in the dimness of the upstairs landing, so that I don't go without text even in the leftover spaces of the house where I spend least time….I can be happy with an essay or a history if it interlaces like a narrative, if its author uses fact or impression to make a story-like sense, but fiction is kind, fiction is the true stuff….I don't give it up. It is entwined too deeply within my history, it has been forming the way I see for too long. #Quote by Francis Spufford

#197. Nobody had to say it; everyone could see it with their eyes and know it in their hearts. In a way all those afternoons down on the sandbar at Thompson Creek, late evenings of margaritas at Que Pasa, nights of pool parties and barn dances and Ronnie Morgan's campfires followed by pancakes and kitchen camaraderie, and church on Sunday morning--these things were like a levee the people of Starhill had spent a lifetime building together. Now, facing a catastrophe that felt like it had the power to wash them away, the levee was holding. #Quote by Rod Dreher

#198. I think the living room is the perfect place to put the flowers," Alexandria agreed. "When Thomas comes over, he'll be able to see them."
Aidan found himself gritting his teeth. Alexandria was already flitting from the kitchen. He caught Marie by the shoulder before she could follow, leaned down, and put his mouth to her ear. "Couldn't you have thrown the damn things out?" The words came out somewhere between a hiss and a growl. "And just for the record, you traitor, Ivan is not her man. I am."
Marie looked shocked. "Not yet, you're not. I believe you still have to court her. And of course I would never throw roses out, Aidan. When a man goes to the trouble of giving a woman flowers, she should at least have the pleasure of seeing them."
"I thought you didn't like this bum."
"He can't be all bad. You should have seen his concern for her. I tell you, Aidan, he's really taken with her." Marie was deliberately, innocently, enthusiastic. "I don't think you'll have to worry about her when she's with him." She attempted to sound reassuring.
Behind them, Stefan was choking again. Aidan swore eloquently in three languages and followed Alexandria out of the room, shaking his head over the workings of the female mind.
Stefan put an arm around Marie. "Wicked, wicked woman."
She laughed softly. "This is fun, Stefan. And it's good for him."
"Be careful, woman. He is not like other men. He might kill to keep her. His nature is that of a wild predator #Quote by Christine Feehan

#199. In the kitchen, I turn on a TV set that has hundreds of channels devoted to every conceivable subject including celebrity bunion removal (This week: David Hasselhoff). I tune in to one of the literally dozens of news shows, all of which feature a format of 55 percent celebrities promoting things, 30 percent emails from viewers, and 15 percent YouTube videos showing bears jumping on trampolines. While I'm catching up on these developments, I turn on the programmable coffeemaker, which I hope that someday, perhaps by attending community college, I will learn to program. #Quote by Dave Barry

#200. Sometimes, waking early before the others, wandering the rooms wrapped in a blanket or drinking my tea in the empty kitchen, I had that most rare of feelings, the sense that the world, so consistently overwhelming and incomprehensible, in fact has an order, oblique as it may seem, and I a place within it. #Quote by Nicole Krauss