Nutty As A Fruitcake Quotes

#1. I swear I've good morals. It's just that bad ones befriend me. I'm a friendly person, you know. But I will talk to them. Believe you me. #Quote by Fakeer Ishavardas

#2. The best thing about flying first class ... was that you could be as nutty as a fruitcake and were still treated like the Queen of Sheba. #Quote by Sarah-Kate Lynch

#3. I am not trying to be funny, it is just that you're a joke. #Quote by Fakeer Ishavardas

#4. So you really could die. Your godmother is right, you know. You are mad as a hatter. Nutty as a fruitcake." "Crazy like a fox," I said. #Quote by Jim Butcher

#5. A t magic hour, when the sun has gone but the light has not, armies of flying foxes unhinge themselves from the Banyan trees in the old graveyard and drift across the city like smoke. When the bats leave, the crows come home.
Not all the din of their homecoming fills the silence left by the sparrows that have gone missing, and the old white-backed vultures, custodians of the dead for more than a hundred
million years, that have been wiped out. The vultures died of diclofenac poisoning. Diclofenac, cow-aspirin, given to cattle
as a muscle relaxant, to ease pain and increase the production of milk, works – worked – like nerve gas on white-backed vultures. Each chemically relaxed, milk-producing cow or
buffalo that died became poisoned vulture-bait. As cattle turned into better dairy machines, as the city ate more ice cream, butterscotch-crunch, nutty-buddy and chocolatechip, as it drank more mango milkshake, vultures' necks
began to droop as though they were tired and simply couldn't stay awake. Silver beards of saliva dripped from their beaks, and one by one they tumbled off their branches, dead.
Not many noticed the passing of the friendly old birds. There was so much else to look forward to. #Quote by Arundhati Roy

#6. There's the whole Mad Hatter's dilemma, it was the amount of mercury that they used in the glue to make the hats. Everything was damaging. So, in terms of the Mad Hatter, looking at it from that perspective of this guy who literally is damaged goods, physically damaged, emotionally a little obtuse, and taking that and deciding that he should be - as opposed to just this hyper, nutty guy - he should explore all sides of the personality at an extreme level. #Quote by Johnny Depp

#7. Sorry. My friends didn't mention certain ... details about you and you just wouldn't believe how nutty some people are. Just last week, I had a woman convinced her trailer was haunted by Tupac, as if he'd want to spend eternity in a double wide that smelled like cat piss. #Quote by Jeaniene Frost

#8. The real Wendy is a plain, regular girl with good skin. I do have hair, if he's wondering about that. I have lots of witnesses to that. [Chuckles] And I'm a homebody. When I get off the phone with you, Kam, I'm going to the grocery store, because our power was out for 4 days. As for breast augmentation, I do recommend it for women over 30 who have a couple of extra dollars. But it's not for a nutty schoolgirl who might just be doing it for a guy. #Quote by Wendy Williams

#9. If you weren't an android," Rick interrupted, "if I could legally marry you, I would."

Rachael said, "Or we could live in sin, except that I'm not alive."

"Legally you're not. But really you are. Biologically. You're not made out of transistorized circuits like a false animal; you're an organic entity." And in two years, he thought, you'll wear out and die. Because we never solved the problem of cell replacement, as you pointed out. So I guess it doesn't matter anyhow.

This is my end, he said to himself. As a bounty hunter. After the Batys there won't be any more. Not after this, tonight.

"You look so sad," Rachael said.

Putting his hand out, he touched her cheek.

"You're not going to be able to hunt androids any longer," she said calmly. "So don't look sad. Please."

He stared at her.

"No bounty hunter ever has gone on," Rachael said. "After being with me. Except one. A very cynical man. Phil Resch. And he's nutty; he works out in left field on his own."

"I see," Rick said. He felt numb. Completely. Throughout his entire body.

"But this trip we're taking," Rachael said, "won't be wasted, because you're going to meet a wonderful, spiritual man. #Quote by Philip K. Dick

#10. Great works - and I think Star Wars is a great work - are easily susceptible to multiple plausible interpretations. Some of them are pretty nutty, but the idea that we should see it as profoundly feminist, or as a deeply Christian tale, or as a Freudian exercise ... I think all of those have some truth. #Quote by Cass Sunstein

#11. Sometimes your gaze alone scares me. Sometimes I've never seen you before. I no longer know what you're doing here, in this popular seaside resort, in this dull, crowded season, where you are even more alone than in your regional capital.

The better to kill you, perhaps, or to drive you away, I don't know. I sometimes manage to feel I've never seen you before. That I don't know you, to the point of horror. That I have no idea why you're here, what you want from me, or what will become of you. Becoming is the only subject we never, ever broach.

You must not know what you're doing here either, with this woman who is already old, mad with writing.

Maybe this is just normal, maybe it's the same all over; it's nothing, you came simply because you were desperate, as you are every day of your life. And also during certain summers at certain times of day or night when the sun quits the sky and slips into the sea, every evening, always, you cannot help wanting to die. This I know.

I see the two of us lost in similar natures. I can sometimes be overwhelmed by tenderness for the kind of people we are. Unstable, they say, a bit nutty. 'People who never go to the movies, or the theater, or parties.' Leftists are like that, you know, they have no clue how to enjoy life. Cannes makes them sick and so do the grand hotels of Morocco. Movies and theaters, it's all the same. #Quote by Marguerite Duras

#12. Christmas Cookie Bonanza?"
"Christmas Cookie Bonanza," I confirm.
"You're making my favorite, right?" Josh gives me puppy-dog eyes, which always makes me laugh, because it's so un-Josh.
"You're such a dork," I say, shaking my head.
"What's your favorite?" Peter asks him. "Because I think the list is pretty set."
"I'm pretty sure it's already on the list," Josh says.
I look from Josh to Peter. I can't tell if they're kidding or not.
Peter reaches out and tickles Kitty's feet. "Read us the list, Katherine."
Kitty giggles and rolls over to her notepad. Then she stands up and grandly says, "M&M cookies are a yes, cappuccino cookies are a maybe, Creamsicle cookies are a maybe, fruitcake cookies are a no way--"
"Wait a minute, I'm a part of this council too," Peter objects, "and you guys just turned down my fruitcake cookies without a second thought."
"You said to forget the fruitcake cookies, like, five seconds ago!" I say.
"Well, now I want them back under consideration," he says.
"I'm sorry, but you don't have the votes," I tell him. "Kitty and I both vote no, so that's two against one."
My dad pops his head into the living room. "Put me down as a yes vote for the fruitcake cookies." His head disappears back into the kitchen.
"Thank you, Dr. Covey," Peter crows. He drags me closer to him. "See, I knew your dad was on my side."
I laugh. "You're such a suck-up!"
And then I look over at Josh, and he #Quote by Jenny Han

#13. Okay. And you'll, uh, make sure he doesn't hurt anybody when he's, you know, nutty and out of his mind with blood lust?" For the next ten years?
Liam winced (well, he blinked), but Sophie soldiered on. "My queen, I have experience in these matters. Guarding young vampires
I
all will be as you wish."
Yeah, right. That'd be a fucking first. #Quote by MaryJanice Davidson

#14. Finally, he smiled, and although his smile was bumpy because some of his teeth were jagged and broken, it was a warming, infectious smile that was reflected in his eyes. It made her smile widely in return. She felt as if the room had been lit up. He held out his arms, and she went across the room to him, almost running. She buried her face in his shirt, her nose wrinkling up as the scent of his cologne mixed with the nutty, sourish smell of camphor that filled the room. He put his arms around her, but gently, so that there was space between his forearms and her back, holding her as if she was to fragile to hug properly. Awkwardly, he patted her light, bushy aureole of dark brown hair, repeating: Good girl. Fine daughter. #Quote by Helen Oyeyemi

#15. She was back in three minutes just to tell me that she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't get a little nutty from time to time, but she felt she was past the pill period, and then she headed back toward the beach, a lissome broad in her mirrored sunglasses, walking on good legs, and she was far younger than her years, yet old as the sea she approached. #Quote by John D. MacDonald

#16. Have you ever known anyone who bought a fruitcake for himself? Of course not. They are purchased as Christmas gifts, mostly for people you don't particularly like. #Quote by Phyllis Diller

#17. Oh please tell me we're not doing the Poirot thing again - the suspects in the library with the candlestick or whatever'.
Max looked at him [DCI Cotton]. 'Fruitcake in this case. And what would you prefer? A car chase? It's the most efficient way to flush out a killer, as Dame Agatha Christie well knew. #Quote by G.M. Malliet

#18. Sooo, I'm tired of people thinking I'm a freak. I know you can't relate to that but -"
"Get over it already, will ya?" Candace stood. "You're not Smellody anymore. You're pretty. You can get hot guys now. Tanned ones with good vision. Not geeky hose jousters." She shut the window. "Don't you ever want to use your lips as something other than veneer protectors?"
Melody felt a familiar pinch behind her eyes. Her throat dried. Her eyes burned. And then they came. Like salty little paratroopers, tears descended en masse. She hated Candace thought she had never made out with a boy. But how could she convince a seventeen-year-old with more dates than a fruitcake that Randy the Starbucks cashier (aka Scarbucks, because of his acne scars) was a great kisser? She couldn't. #Quote by Lisi Harrison

#19. Breakfast! My favorite meal- and you can be so creative. I think of bowls of sparkling berries and fresh cream, baskets of Popovers and freshly squeezed orange juice, thick country bacon, hot maple syrup, panckes and French toast - even the nutty flavor of Irish oatmeal with brown sugar and cream. Breaksfast is the place I splurge with calories, then I spend the rest of the day getting them off! I love to use my prettiest table settings - crocheted placemats with lace-edged napkins and old hammered silver. And whether you are inside in front of a fire, candles burning brightly on a wintery day - or outside on a patio enjoying the morning sun - whether you are having a group of friends and family, a quiet little brunch for two, or an even quieter little brunch just for yourself, breakfast can set the mood and pace of the whole day.

And Sunday is my day. Sometimes I think we get caught up in the hectic happenings of the weeks and months and we forget to take time out to relax. So one Sunday morning I decided to do things differently - now it's gotten to be a sort of ritual! This is what I do: at around 8:30 am I pull myself from my warm cocoon, fluff up the pillows and blankets and put some classical music on the stereo. Then I'm off to the kitchen, where I very calmly (so as not to wake myself up too much!) prepare my breakfast, seomthing extra nice - last week I had fresh pineapple slices wrapped in bacon and broiled, a warm croissant, hot chocolate with marshmallo #Quote by Susan Branch

#20. There's our homecoming picture. Last Halloween, when I dressed up as Mulan and Peter wore a dragon costume. There's a receipt from Tart and Tangy. One of his notes to me, from before. If you make Josh's dumb white-chocolate cranberry cookies and not my fruitcake ones, it's over. Pictures of us from Senior Week. Prom. Dried rose petals from my corsage. The Sixteen Candles picture.
There are some things I didn't include, like the ticket stub from our first real date, the note he wrote me that said, I like you in blue. Those things are tucked away in my hatbox. I'll never let those go.
But the really special thing I've included is my letter, the one I wrote to him so long ago, the one that brought us together. I wanted to keep it, but something felt right about Peter having it. One day all of this will be proof, proof that we were here, proof that we loved each other. It's the guarantee that no matter what happens to us in the future, this time was ours.
When he gets to that page, Peter stops. "I thought you wanted to keep this," he said.
"I wanted to, but then I felt like you should have it. Just promise you'll keep it forever."
He turns the page. It's a picture from when we took my grandma to karaoke. I sang "You're So Vain" and dedicated it to Peter. Peter got up and sang "Style" by Taylor Swift. Then he dueted "Unchained Melody" with my grandma, and after, she made us both promise to take a Korean language class at UVA. She and Peter took a ton of se #Quote by Jenny Han

#21. There is one hour in his life when we see a flash of utter physical action on Christ's part, an hour when this most curious of men must have experienced the sheer joyous exuberance of a young mammal in full flight: when he lets himself go and flings over the first money changer's table in the Temple at Jerusalem, coins flying, doves thrashing into the air, oxen bellowing, sheep yowling, the money changer going head-over-teakettle, all heads turning, what the...? You don't think Christ got a shot of utter childlike physical glee at that moment? Too late to stop now, his rage rushing to his head, his veiny carpenter's-son wiry arms and hard feet milling as he whizzes through the Temple overturning tables, smashing birdcages, probably popping a furious money-changer here and there with a quick left jab or a well-placed Divine Right Elbow to the money-lending teeth, whipping his scourge of cords against the billboard-size flank of an ox, men scrambling to get out of the way, to grab some of the flying coins, to get a punch in on this nutty rube causing all the ruckus...

In all this holy rage and chaos, don't you think there was a little absolute boyish mindless physical jittery joy in the guy? #Quote by Brian Doyle

#22. I didn't believe in systems. Everything human was imperfect and ultimately absurd. What did I believe in then? In humor. In laughing at systems, at people, at one's self. In laughing even at one's need to laugh all the time. In seeing life as contradictory, many-sided, various, funny, tragic, and with moments of outrageous beauty. In seeing life as a fruitcake, including delicious plums and bad peanuts, but meant to be devoured hungrily all the same because you couldn't feast on the plums without also sometimes being poisoned by the peanuts. #Quote by Erica Jong

#23. Methods for predicting the future: 1) read horoscopes, tea leaves, tarot cards, or crystal balls ... collectively known as "nutty methods;" 2) put well-researched facts into sophisticated computer ... commonly referred to as "a complete waste of time." #Quote by Scott Adams

#24. There are not many secure hospitals that can boast someone who thought he was Napoleon, but St. Cerebellum's could field three - not to mention a handful of serial killers whose names inexplicably yet conveniently rhymed with their crimes. Notorious cannibal "Peter the Eater" was incarcerated here, as were "Sasha the Slasher" and "Mr. Browner the Serial Drowner." But the undisputed king of rhyme-inspired serial murder was Isle of Man resident Maximilian Marx, who went under the uniquely tongue-twisting epithet "Mad Max Marx, the Masked Manxman Axman." Deirdre Blott tried to top Max's clear superiority by changing her name so as to become "Nutty Nora Newsome, the Knife-Wielding Weird Widow from Waddersdon," but no one was impressed, and she was ostracized by the other patients for being such a terrible show-off. #Quote by Jasper Fforde

#25. Am I a fruitcake? I don't know. Perception is reality, so if I sit here and say, "I'm not a fruitcake, I'm a lemon cake," it doesn't matter. What you see me as in your world is what I am; it doesn't matter what I am - do you know what I mean? To me, I know what my real problems are - and they're certainly not about cake. And that's just the way it is. #Quote by Macy Gray

#26. Coffee is a lot like people. In many ways, it's deceiving. The sweetness that you smell as it brews is more often than not a fallacy. The scent of a dark roasted coffee bean promises you rich flavors with hints of chocolate and hazelnut, but if you're not used to coffee's deceptiveness, you're left with a bitter aftertaste dangling at the back of your throat. To those of us who are used to it- we've grown a fondness for that bitter taste. It's complex. It's teasing. It reminds us that most things in life are not consistently sweet with every sip. One morning, your coffee might brew mild with just a flirtation of nutty undertones, And the next morning, it might be pelting you in the face with those same nuts, leaving little stinging marks with each sip. It's moody. It's not easy to perfect. But when you get the perfect brew, it's rewarding. And that same perfection is not guaranteed tomorrow just because you managed it today. #Quote by Katana Collins

#27. As chairman of the Senate subcommittee responsible for NASA appropriations, I say not a penny for this nutty fantasy. #Quote by William Proxmire

#28. The fact that I haven't been married might qualify me as belonging in the nutty category to a lot of women. #Quote by Thomas Haden Church

#29. Cleopatra: You come before me as a suppliant.
Antony: If you choose to regard me as such.
Cleopatra: You will therefore assume the position of a suppliant before this throne. You will kneel.
Antony: I will *what*?
Cleopatra: On-your-knees!
Antony: You dare ask the Proconsul of the Roman Empire?
Cleopatra: I *asked* it of Julius Caesar. I *demand* it of you #Quote by Elizabeth Taylor

#30. I had never thought that I would be involved in narrative structures. As a young guy, I was more interested in abstract modeling. But as I got older, I began to see that there was no reason to limit myself to any intellectual or conceptual postulate, when in fact I'm a professional student of music. #Quote by Anthony Braxton

#31. True compassion sees each person as a brother or sister and acts accordingly. #Quote by Dillon Burroughs

#32. One sort of believes in recycling. But one believes in it as a kind of palliative to the gods. #Quote by Fay Weldon

#33. When Russia started to regain some of its strength as an economy and as a state, the West's reaction - perhaps a subconscious one, based on erstwhile fears - was panic. #Quote by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

#34. Group Material is itself collaborative, which is non-hierarchical and we don't use the corporate model which is along lines of expertise but we work together and take responsibility as a group for every aspect of the work. And then there's a collaboration or dialogue with those artists and non-artists we work with, in terms of participation in the various projects. #Quote by Julie Ault

#35. He'd always felt he had a right to exist as a wizard in the same way that you couldn't do proper maths without the number 0, which wasn't a number at all but, if it went away, would leave a lot of larger numbers looking bloody stupid. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#36. My love, stay here.
Going in search of Self (as a goal) is illusion;
You are already the One Self.
You will purchase the map,
Only to find you are already Here. #Quote by Mooji

#37. When I started as a White House correspondent, there was a lot of criticism from guys saying, 'She focuses too much on the person but not enough on policy.' I never understood that argument at all. I just didn't agree with the premise. #Quote by Maureen Dowd

#38. Everybody uses pop culture as a shorthand. You might make an obscure reference to Monty Python or Iron Eagle that only some people will get, but if they do it conveys a world of meaning. #Quote by Ernest Cline

#39. In many interviews he had identified himself as a man outraged by death, but that was pretty much the same old big-balls crap he'd been selling throughout his career. He was terrified of death, that was the truth, and as a result of spending his life honing his imagination, he could see it coming from at least four dozen different directions... and late at night when he couldn't sleep, he was apt to see it coming from four dozen different directions at once. Refusing to see the doctor, to have a checkup and let them peek under the hood, would not cause any of those diseases to pause in their approach or their feeding upon him--if, indeed, the feeding had already begun--but if he stayed away from the doctors and their devilish machines, he wouldn't have to know. You didn't have to deal with the monster under the bed or lurking in the corner if you never actually turned on the bedroom lights, that was the thing. And what no doctor in the world seemed to know was that, for men like Johnny Marinville, fearing was sometimes better than finding. Especially when you'd put out the welcome mat for every disease going. #Quote by Stephen King

#40. The Earth faces environmental problems right now that threaten the imminent destruction of civilization and the end of the planet as a livable world. Humanity cannot afford to waste its financial and emotional resources on endless, meaningless quarrels between each group and all others. there must be a sense of globalism in which the world unites to solve the real problems that face all groups alike. #Quote by Isaac Asimov

#41. The emotional, loving, moody child had small chance of developing into a happy woman. Had she as a girl been naturally joyus yet all that had befallen her must surely have driven away the bright birds, one by one, from her breast. As it was, made of more sombre clay, capable of deep happiness, but more easily drawn to the dark than the light, Fuchsia was even more open to the cruel winds of circumstance which appeared to have singled her out for particular punishment. #Quote by Mervyn Peake

#42. It is a well-worn saying but one nonetheless true and nonetheless worthy of repetition, inasmuch as it expresses peculiarly the situation now widely prevalent, that "where there is no vision the people perish. " Mankind as a whole, or more particularly the Western element, has lost in some incomprehensible way its spiritual vision. An heretical barrier has been erected separating itself from that current of life and vitality which even now, despite willful impediment and obstacle, pulses and vibrates passionately in the blood, pervading the whole of universal form and structure. The anomalies presented today are due to this rank absurdity. Mankind is slowly accomplishing its own suicide. A self-strangulation is being effected through a suppression of all individuality, in the spiritual sense, and all that made it human. It continues to withhold the spiritual atmosphere from its lungs, so to speak. And having severed itself from the eternal and never-ceasing sources of light and life and inspiration, it has deliberately blinded itself to the fact - than which no other could compare in importance - that there is a dynamic principle both within and without from which it has accomplished a divorce. The result is inner lethargy, chaos, and the disintegration of all that formerly was held to be ideal and sacred. #Quote by Israel Regardie