Root Beer Quotes

#1. Cloud root beer floats and moon grilled cheeses. But their favorite food is stardust. #Quote by Michelle Cuevas

#2. The Council of American Builders met once a month and engaged in no tangible activity beyond listening to speeches and sipping an inferior brand of root beer. Its membership did not grow fast in quantity or quality. There were no concrete results achieved. #Quote by Ayn Rand

#3. Cash misses his wife with a blank pain in his chest, and he misses his sisters and cousins, who have known him since he was a strong, good-looking boy. Everyone back there remembers, or if they are too young, they've been told. The old ones get to hang on the sweet, perfect past. Cash was the best at climbing trees; his sister Letty won the story bees. The woman who married Letty's husband's brother, a beauty named Sugar, was spotted one time drinking a root beer and had her picture in LIFE magazine. They all know. Now she has thin hair and a humped back but she's still Sugar, she gets to walk around Heaven, Oklahoma, with everybody thinking she's pretty and special. which she is. That's the trouble with moving away from family, he realizes. You lose your youth entirely, you have only the small tired baggage that is carried within the body. #Quote by Barbara Kingsolver

#4. The egg creams of Avenue A in New York and the root beer float ... are among the high points of American gastronomic inventiveness. #Quote by Mark Kurlansky

#5. I haven't had a very good day. I think I might still be hung over and everyone's dead and my root beer's gone. #Quote by Holly Black

#6. Ellie: "What was your favourite food before root beer floats were invented?"
Will: "I dont know. Food was terrible before people started putting lots of chemicals and artifiacal flavours into it to make it taste better. I guess Ive always like carrots a lot."
Ellie: "Carrots?" "Your other favourite food is carrots? What is wrong with you? #Quote by Countney Allison Moulton

#7. This is where the pivotal events of my childhood unfolded, while I ate banana and root beer Popsicles, two by two, tucking the sticks neatly under the skirt of the chair. It's where Sunnybank Lad met Lady, Ken met his friend Flicka, Atlanta burned, Manderley burned, Lassie came home, Jim ran away, Alice got small, Wilbur got big, David Copperfield was born, Beth died, and, on an endless gloomy winter afternoon, Jody shot his yearling. #Quote by Jo Ann Beard

#8. Love isn't roses. It's those little square caramels and a root beer from the gas station because he knows that's your favorite snack. It's watching a musical with you without groaning. It's handing you your glasses at night because he knows you're too blind to find your way to the bathroom without them. Love is awkward. #Quote by R.K. Ryals

#9. Apple, candy apple, funnel cake, cotton candy, and a root beer float. #Quote by Wendy Mass

#10. All about them the golden girls, shopping for dainties in Lairville. Even in the midst of the wild-maned winter's chill, skipping about in sneakers and sweatsocks, cream-colored raincoats. A generation in the mold, the Great White Pattern Maker lying in his prosperous bed, grinning while the liquid cools. But he does not know my bellows. Someone there is who will huff and will puff. The sophmores in their new junior blazers, like Saturday's magazines out on Thursday. Freshly covered textbooks from the campus store, slide rules dangling in leather, sheathed broadswords, chinos scrubbed to the virgin fiber, starch pressed into straight-razor creases, Oxford shirts buttoned down under crewneck sweaters, blue eyes bobbing everywhere, stunned by the android synthesis of one-a-day vitamins, Tropicana orange juice, fresh country eggs, Kraft homogenized cheese, tetra-packs of fortified milk, Cheerios with sun-ripened bananas, corn-flake-breaded chicken, hot fudge sundaes, Dairy Queen root beer floats, cheeseburgers, hybrid creamed corn, riboflavin extract, brewer's yeast, crunchy peanut butter, tuna fish casseroles, pancakes and imitation maple syrup, chuck steaks, occasional Maine lobster, Social Tea biscuits, defatted wheat germ, Kellogg's Concentrate, chopped string beans, Wonderbread, Birds Eye frozen peas, shredded spinach, French-fried onion rings, escarole salads, lentil stews, sundry fowl innards, Pecan Sandies, Almond Joys, aureomycin, penicillin, antitetanus toxoid, smallpo #Quote by Richard Farina

#11. GO BACK TO DALLAS!" the man sitting somewhere behind us yelled again, and the hold Aiden still had on the back of my neck tightened imperceptibly.

"Don't bother, Van," he demanded, pokerfaced.

"I'm not going to say anything," I said, even as I reached up with the hand furthest away from him and put it behind my head, extending my middle finger in hopes that the idiot yelling would see it.

Those brown eyes blinked. "You just flipped him off, didn't you?"

Yeah, my mouth dropped open. "How do you know when I do that?" My tone was just as astonished as it should be.

"I know everything." He said it like he really believed it.

I groaned and cast him a long look. "You really want to play this game?"

"I play games for a living, Van."

I couldn't stand him sometimes. My eyes crossed in annoyance. "When is my birthday?"

He stared at me.

"See?"

"March third, Muffin."

What in the hell?

"See?" he mocked me.

Who was this man and where was the Aiden I knew?

"How old am I?" I kept going hesitantly.

"Twenty-six."

"How do you know this?" I asked him slowly.

"I pay attention," The Wall of Winnipeg stated.

I was starting to think he was right.

Then, as if to really seal the deal I didn't know was resting between us, he said, "You like waffles, root beer, and Dr. Pepper. You only d #Quote by Mariana Zapata

#12. She looked like a hippie who'd been kicked to the side of the road maybe forty years ago, where she'd been collecting trash and rags ever since. She wore a dress made of tie-dyed cloth, ripped-up quilts, and plastic grocery bags. Her frizzy mop of hair was gray-brown, like root-beer foam, tied back with a peace-sign headband. Warts and moles covered her face. When she smiled, she showed exactly three teeth. #Quote by Rick Riordan

#13. Cheat (sometimes)

Eating healthily is a part of my lifestyle, but I'm no superhuman. My Kryptonite is at the movie theater. I can't go to the movies unless I have popcorn (with butter and salt, of course), and I'll also get nachos with extra cheese and jalapeños, then some M&Ms, water, and a root beer if I really want to get crazy. It's okay to cheat…provided you do it only occasionally. If you never allow yourself to cheat, you put too much pressure on yourself and doom yourself to failure. Work hard and practice hard, but it's okay to cut yourself a break now and then. #Quote by Derek Hough

#14. ...root beer floats are the stuff that toasts are made of. #Quote by Sandra D. Bricker

#15. A bee rose up from a sun-filled paper cup, off to make slum honey from some diet root beer it had found inside. #Quote by Nicholson Baker

#16. That's right, buddy. You bought yourself a dime root beer this afternoon. You also put Carolyn Poulin back in a wheelchair. #Quote by Stephen King

#17. Tantalus grabbed for the glass, but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops rolled away like quicksilver before he could touch them. He growled and turned toward the plate of barbecue. He picked up a fork and tried to stab a piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew off the end, straight into the coals of the brazier. #Quote by Rick Riordan

#18. My point of view is this: If you like root-beer floats so much, have one on Monday, another on Tuesday, and a third on Wednesday. #Quote by Dean Koontz

#19. So long as a man attends to his business the public does not count his drinks. When he fails they notice if he takes even a glass of root beer. #Quote by Corra May Harris

#20. What is that thing? It looks like a model of the human digestive tract made from broken beer bottles and sadness. #Quote by Robert Kroese

#21. I'd be glad to go out on a limb with those
Who want nothing beyond what the wind bestows,
Were I not bound to roots, dug in deep to bear
Never being done grasping for light and air #Quote by X.J. Kennedy

#22. Obituary for Edith Hahn Beer from the Times (UK) This obituary was published in the March 26, 2009, edition of the London Times. Reprinted with permission of the Times, London. EDITH HAHN-BEER escaped probable extermination as a Jew in wartime Germany by assuming a #Quote by Edith Hahn Beer

#23. The match would have to be made at 165 pounds. Sean can't make 160 any more, even though he's drinking lite beer these days #Quote by Angelo Dundee

#24. Avoid all refined speculations; confine yourself to simple reflections, and recur to them frequently. Those who pass too rapidly from one truth to another feed their curiosity and restlessness; they even distract their intellect with too great a multiplicity of views. Give every truth time to send down deep root into the heart. #Quote by Francois Fenelon

#25. Premature optimization is the root of all evil. - Donald E. Knuth [ #Quote by Joshua Bloch

#26. You Are What You Eat

Take food for example. We all assume that our craving or disgust is due to something about the food itself - as opposed to being an often arbitrary response preprogrammed by our culture. We understand that Australians prefer cricket to baseball, or that the French somehow find Gerard Depardieu sexy, but how hungry would you have to be before you would consider plucking a moth from the night air and popping it, frantic and dusty, into your mouth? Flap, crunch, ooze. You could wash it down with some saliva beer.How does a plate of sheep brain's sound? Broiled puppy with gravy? May we interest you in pig ears or shrimp heads? Perhaps a deep-fried songbird that you chew up, bones, beak, and all? A game of cricket on a field of grass is one thing, but pan-fried crickets over lemongrass? That's revolting.

Or is it? If lamb chops are fine, what makes lamb brains horrible? A pig's shoulder, haunch, and belly are damn fine eatin', but the ears, snout, and feet are gross? How is lobster so different from grasshopper? Who distinguishes delectable from disgusting, and what's their rationale? And what about all the expectations? Grind up those leftover pig parts, stuff 'em in an intestine, and you've got yourself respectable sausage or hot dogs. You may think bacon and eggs just go together, like French fries and ketchup or salt and pepper. But the combination of bacon and eggs for breakfast was dreamed up about a hundred years aqo by an advertis #Quote by Christopher Ryan

#27. Selfishness is the root and source of all natural and moral evils. #Quote by Nathanael Emmons

#28. When you see injustice among the nations, you will find out that the root cause is covetousnes. #Quote by Sunday Adelaja

#29. California, Labor Day weekend...early, with ocean fog still in the streets, outlaw motorcyclists wearing chains, shades and greasy Levis roll out from damp garages, all-night diners and cast-off one-night pads in Fricso, Hollywood, Berdoo and East Oakland, heading for the Monterey peninsula, north of Big Sur...The Menace is loose again, the Hell's Angels, the hundred-carat headline, running fast and loud on the early morning freeway, low in the saddle, nobody smiles, jamming crazy through traffic and ninety miles an hour down the center stripe, missing by inches...like Genghis Khan on an iron horse, a monster steed with a fiery anus, flat out through the eye of a beer can and up your daughter's leg with no quarter asked and non given; show the squares some class, give em a whiff of those kicks they'll never know...Ah, these righteous dudes, they love to screw it on...Little Jesus, the Gimp, Chocolate George, Buzzard, Zorro, Hambone, Clean Cut, Tiny, Terry the Tramp, Frenchy, Mouldy Marvin, Mother Miles, Dirty Ed, Chuck the Duck, Fat Freddy, Filthy Phil, Charger Charley the Child Molester, Crazy Cross, Puff, Magoo, Animal and at least a hundred more...tense for the action, long hair in the wind, beards and bandanas flapping, earrings, armpits, chain whips, swastikas and stripped-down Harleys flashing chrome as traffic on 101 moves over, nervous, to let the formation pass like a burst of dirty thunder... #Quote by Hunter S. Thompson

#30. I want to be able to depict in music a glass of beer so accurately that every listener can tell whether it is a Pilsner or a Kulmbacher. #Quote by Richard Strauss

#31. The paradoxical intercourse of audience and celebrity.The suppressed awareness that the whole reason ordinary people found celebrity fascinating was that they were not, themselves, celebrities. That wasn't quite it. (....) It was more the deeper, more tragic and universal conflict of which the celebrity paradox was a part. The conflict between the subjective centrality of our own lives versus our awareness of its objective insignificance. Atwater knew - as did everyone at Style, though by some strange unspoken consensus it was never said aloud - that this was the single great informing conflict of the American psyche. The management of insignificance. It was the great syncretic bond of US monoculture. It was everywhere, at the root of everything - of impatience in long lines, of cheating on taxes, of movements in fashion and music and art, of marketing. In particular, he thought it was alive in the paradoxes of audience. It was the feeling that celebrities were your intimate friends, coupled with the inchoate awareness that that untold millions of people felt the same way - and that the celebrities themselves did not. Atwater had had contact with a certain number of celebrities (there was no way to avoid it at BSG), and they were not, in his experience, very friendly or considerate people. Which made sense when one considered that celebrities were not actually functioning as real people at all, but as something more like symbols of themselves. #Quote by David Foster Wallace

#32. I like every single actor or actress in the world, because we never know what the conditions are like when they are working. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt and root for them like a psychotic sports fan. #Quote by Judd Nelson

#33. You make out with a boy because he's cute, but he has no substance, no words to offer you. His mouth tastes like stale beer and false promises. When he touches your chin, you offer your mouth up like a flower to to be plucked, all covered in red lipstick to attract his eye. When he reaches his hand down your shirt, he stops, hand on boob, and squeezes, like you're a fruit he's trying to juice. He doesn't touch anything but skin, does not feel what's within. In the morning, he texts you only to say, "I think I left the rest of my beer at your place, but it's cool, you can drink it. Last night was fun."
You kiss a girl because she's new. Because she's different and you're twenty two, trying something else out because it's all failed before. After spending six weekends together, you call her, only to be answered by a harsh beep informing you that her number has been disconnected. You learn that success doesn't come through experimenting with your sexuality, and you're left with a mouth full of ruin and more evidence that you are out of tune.
You fall for a boy who is so nice, you don't think he can do any harm. When he mentions marriage and murder in the same sentence, you say, "Okay, okay, okay." When you make a joke he does not laugh, but tilts his head and asks you how many drinks you've had in such a loving tone that you sober up immediately. He leaves bullet in your blood and disappears, saying, "Who wants a girl that's filled with holes?"
You find out that a #Quote by Lora Mathis

#34. Loyalty to God is alone fundamental. Feelings, words, deeds, must be beads strung on the string of duty. Let the world tell you in a hundred ways what your life is for. Say you ever and only, "Lo, I come to do Thy will, O my God." Out of that dutiful root grows the beautiful life, the life radically and radiantly true to God
the only life that can be lived in both worlds. #Quote by Maltbie Davenport Babcock

#35. Love is for every age auspicious,
But for the virginal and young
Its impulses are more propitious
Like vernal storms on meadows sprung:
They freshen in the rain of passion,
Ripening in their renovation –
And life, empowered, sends up shoots
Of richest blooms and sweetest fruits.
But at a late age, dry and fruitless,
The final stage to which we're led,
Sad is the trace of passions dead:
Thus storms in autumn, cold and ruthless,
Transform the field into a slough,
And strip the trees from root to bough. #Quote by Alexander Pushkin

#36. At a well in a yard they met a man who was beating a boy. The stick burst into a flower in the mans hand. He tried to drop it, but it stuck to his hand. His arm became a branch, his body the trunk of a tree, his feet took root. #Quote by C.S. Lewis

#37. The secret of drunkenness is, that it insulates us in thought, whilst it unites us in feeling. #Quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson

#38. Look, sweetheart, I can drink you under any goddamn table you want, so don't worry about me. #Quote by Elizabeth Taylor

#39. You know, Jean's slapped me out of a lot of moods like the one you're in right now." Locke took a long pull on his beer. "You're taking the world awfully personally. Didn't Chains ever tell you about the Golden Theological Principle?" "The what?" "The single congruent aspect of every known religion. The one shared, universal assumption about the human condition." "What is it?" "He said that life boils down to standing in line to get shit dropped on your head. Everyone's got a place in the queue, you can't get out of it, and just when you start to congratulate yourself on surviving your dose of shit, you discover that the line is actually circular." "I'm just old enough to find that distressingly accurate. #Quote by Scott Lynch

#40. 'National Security' is the root password to the Constitution. #Quote by Phil Karn

#41. Far off there was a great hill of shadow, and out of that shadow, which was its root, he saw the King's Tree springing up, tower upon tower, into the sky, and its light was like the sun at noon; and it bore at once leaves and flowers and fruits uncounted, and not one was the same as any other that grew on The Tree. #Quote by J.R.R. Tolkien

#42. Man takes root at his feet, and at best he is no more than a potted plant in his house or carriage till he has established communication with the soil by the loving and magnetic touch of his soles to it. #Quote by John Burroughs

#43. I had come out of a messy workplace along a messy street to a messy room and did not like it and within me was the beer that made me bold. #Quote by Sherwood Anderson

#44. All this was part of the initiation rites common to all armies. So was learning to drink. Beer, almost exclusively, at the post PX, there being no nearby towns. Lots of beer. They sang soldiers' songs. Toward #Quote by Stephen E. Ambrose

#45. Do you remember your first sip of beer? Terrible! How could anyone like that stuff? But beer, you reflect, is an acquired taste; one gradually trains oneself - or just comes - to enjoy that flavor. What flavor? The flavor of that first sip? No one could like that flavor! Beer tastes different to the experienced beer drinker. Then beer isn't an acquired tast; one doesn't learn to like that first taste; one gradually comes to experience a different, and likable, taste. Had the first sip tasted that way, you would have liked beer wholeheartedly from the beginning! #Quote by Douglas Hofstadter

#46. At the root of the tree at the heart of the world,
With a chain round his neck, the Wolf lies curled.
His gleaming teeth and jaws are furled,
And the sun shall rise in the morning.
His chain, it is forged of the nerve of a bear,
Of the voice of a fish, and a girl's chin-hair.
His chain, it is light and strong and fair,
And the sun shall rise in the morning.
With a mountain's root, and a cat's foot-fall,
And the spit of a bird, he is held in thrall,
Though iron could bind him never at all,
And the sun shall rise in the morning.
The sun shall rise, the stars shall fade,
For the binding which the good gods made
Still loops the Wolf in its lovely braid,
And the sun shall rise in the morning. #Quote by Maculategiraffe

#47. Cold beer is bottled God. #Quote by Dylan Thomas

#48. Can I have another beer? It's amazing, it doesn't feem to have any essect on me, no matter how much I dnirk. Helps me think clearerer. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#49. A storm of yellow notepads, broken pencils, papers, and books littered the tables and floor of the room, along with a collection of empty beer cans. It looked as if a party of wild librarians had just cleared out. #Quote by Erika Robuck

#50. I usually need a can of beer to prime me. #Quote by Norman Mailer