Thirode Stove Quotes

#1. I was like any new bride, who said, 'I'm going to cook for my man.' In fact, once I started a small kitchen fire in a pan. Smoke was pouring from the pan, and I got really scared. Right next to our stove is a small fire extinguisher. You know, easy access. #Quote by Catherine Zeta-Jones

#2. may ask me anything." "How long would it take to get a closed stove installed #Quote by Marion Chesney

#3. Amazing how a confluence of praise and lust can just make your defensive barriers collapse like Jell-O on a hot stove #Quote by Dan Skinner

#4. Perhaps success in the future will depend partly on our ability to generate cheap power, but I think it will depend to a greater extent on our ability to resist a technological formula that is sterile: peas without pageantry, corn without coon, knowledge without wisdom, kitchens without a warm stove. There is more to these rocks than uranium; there is the lichen on the rock, the smell of the fern whose feet are upon the rock, the view from the rock. #Quote by E.B. White

#5. Feeling good in front of the coal stove in a cold day? That's good, but over there you must also feel the sorrows of the miners! In heaven, don't forget the people in hell! #Quote by Mehmet Murat Ildan

#6. If you're Mejicana or Mejicano and don't know who Pedro Infante is, you should be tied to a hot stove with yucca rope and beaten with sharp dry corn husks as you stand in a vat of soggy fideos. #Quote by Denise Chavez

#7. She was so ridiculously happy that most days she didn't know how to contain it. Every morning before dawn she would unwrap her long limbs reluctantly from those of her husband, drink the coffee he insisted on making for her, then walk down to open the library and get the stove going, ready for the others to arrive. Despite the cold and the brutal hour, she was almost always to be found smiling. If Peggy Van Cleve's friends chose to remark that Alice Guisler had let herself go something awful since she'd started up at that library, what with her un-set hair and her mannish outfits (and to think her so refined and well-dressed when she came, and all!), then Fred couldn't have noticed less. He was married to the most beautiful woman in the world, and every night after they had each finished work, and put away the dishes side by side, he made sure to pay homage. In the still air of Split Creek it was not unusual for those who were walking past in the darkness to shake an amused head at the breathless and joyous sounds emanating from the house behind the library. In Baileyville, in winter, there was not much to do after the sun went down, after all. #Quote by Jojo Moyes

#8. there wasn't a stove
and we put cans of beans
in hot water in the sink
to heat them
up
and we read the Sunday papers
on Monday
after digging them out of the
trash cans
but somehow we managed
money for wine
and the
rent
and the money came off
the streets
out of hock shops
out of nowhere
and all that mattered
was the next
bottle
and we drank and sang
and
fought
were in and out
of drunk
tanks
car crashes
hospitals
we barricaded ourselves
against the
police
and the other roomers
hated
us
and the desk clerk
of the hotel
feared
us
and it went on
and
on
and it was one of the
most wonderful times
of my
life.
-- Bumming with Jane #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#9. Every time I go near the stove, the dog howls. #Quote by Phyllis Diller

#10. Though the kitchen's decor stinks, the smell of something wonderful pulls me away from Charlie's chattering. Bacon. Right there cooking on the stove. Yeah, I know. I'm dead. But I can still eat like a sumo wrestler. And if that deliciousness isn't on a plate in front of me within two minutes, I'm eating it straight from the pan. #Quote by Victoria Scott

#11. AUGUST 25 A Special Angel By Maria Gillard Thank you for my childhood, for my laughing heart and soul for all your magic, and for being bold Thank you for being my mom's best friend and loving me no matter what state I was in Thanks for chives and roses, popcorn and TV Thanks for always letting me be me Thanks for rides to swim meets and yummy chocolate cake Thanks for being strong and true when my heart was aching Thank you for the blankets and pillow for my head Thank you for the back hill and the Westside River bed Thank you for the smell of melting butter on the stove Thank you for the nickels you gave me for the store You were a special angel sent to all of us with your disguise of freckles, kisses, hugs and guts We know you're out there somewhere and you'll stay inside our dreams We know wherever you are there's a brilliant golden beam Watch over us, dear angel, as you go on your way and we will laugh and sing and dance again someday Amen #Quote by Cathleen O'Connor

#12. It wouldn't be right, the first night on Mars, to make a loud noise, to introduce a strange, silly bright thing like a stove. It would be a kind of imported blasphemy. There'd be time for that later; time to throw condensed-milk cans in the proud Martian canals; time for copies of the New York Times to blow and caper and rustle across the lone gray Martian sea bottoms; time for banana peels and picnic papers in the fluted, delicate ruins of the old Martian valley towns. Plenty of time for that. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#13. I'll accept your apology on one condition." He folded his arms across his chest.
"Anything?"
"You trust me."
I cocked my head to the side. "I trust you, Cam."
"No, you don't." He walked over to my small table and pulled out a chair. "Have a seat."
Sitting down, I tugged the hem of his shirt down as he headed back to the stove, putting the tiny skillet over the burner.
"If you trusted me, you wouldn't have reacted the way you did," he simply said, cracking an egg. "And that's not me judging you or any of that kind of shit. You got to trust me that I'm not going to be an ass or freak out over that kind of stuff. You have to trust that I care enough about you. #Quote by Jennifer L. Armentrout

#14. You see him and you think me and I knew if you saw him first you would be afraid because it is frightening! I am frightened! I have to turn into him! He's already been all the Saturdays it takes to be that Saturday, but whatever happened is still coming for me, I still have to stand up for the hurts and the grief that made him and I can't not do it, but knowing I will is like looking at a hot stove and knowing you're going to touch it, knowing you're going to burn, and feeling the blisters and the peeling before even you reach out your hand. I have to feel it now, all the time, and I don't even know what the stove is. #Quote by Catherynne M Valente

#15. from Testimony"

Outside the night was cold, the snow was deep
on sill and sidewalk; but in our kitchen
it was bright and warm.
I smelt the damp clothes
as my mother lifted them from the basket,
the pungent smell of melting wax
as she rubbed it on the iron,
and the good lasting smell of meat and potatoes
in the black pot that simmered on the stove.
The stove was so hot it was turning red.
My mother lifted the lid of the pot
to stir the roast with a long wooden spoon:
Father would not be home for another hour.
I tugged at her skirts. Tell me a story!
Once upon a time (the best beginning!)
there was a rich woman, a baroness, and a poor woman, a beggar.
The poor woman came every day to beg and every day
the rich woman gave her a loaf of bread
until the rich woman was tired of it.
I will put poison in the next loaf, she thought,
to be rid of her.
The beggar woman thanked the baroness for that loaf and went to her hut,
but, as she was going through the fields,
she met the rich woman's son coming out of the forest.
"Hello, hello, beggar woman!" said the young baron,
"I have been away for three days hunting
and am very hungry.
I know you are coming from my mother's
and that she has given you a loaf of bread;
let me have it--she will give you another."
"Gladly, gladly," said the beggar woman,
and, without knowing it was p #Quote by Charles Reznikoff

#16. I bought some crackers and a piece of hoop cheese and an apple at a grocery store and sat on a nail keg by the stove and had a cheap yet nourishing lunch. You know what they say, Enough is as good as a feast. #Quote by Charles Portis

#17. From my own experience I can say that a bad back makes you hike slower, stove-up knees keep you from wading confidently, tendinitis of the elbows buggers your casting, and a dose of giardia can send you dashing to the bushes fifteen times in an afternoon, but although none of this is fun, it's discernibly better than not fishing. #Quote by John Gierach

#18. Good fear protects you from getting hurt. Don't put your hand on a hot stove. Avoid dark alleys. Stay away from high, open places and trees during a lightning storm! Bad fear, though. It makes you think twice about taking the kind of risk that might turn out to be good for you. Applying for a job. Telling someone you love them. Writing the great American novel. Bad fear protects you from life. Keeps you from really living! You listen bad fear, you may as well just disappear. #Quote by Jocelyn Davies

#19. There seemed no answer. He wasn't resigned to anything, he hadn't accepted or adjusted to the life he'd been forced into. Yet here he was, eight months after the plague's last victim, nine since he's spoken to another human being, ten since Virginia had died. Here he was with no future and a virtually hopeless present. Still plodding on.
Instinct? Or was he just stupid? Too unimaginative to destroy himself? Why hadn't he done it in the beginning when he was in the very depths? What had impelled him to enclose the house, install a freezer, a generator, an electric stove, a water tank, build a hothouse, a workbench, burn down the houses on each side of his, collect records and books and mountains of canned supplies, even - it was fantastic when you thought about it - even put a fancy mural on the wall?
Was the life force something more than words, a tangible, mind-controlling potency? Was nature somehow, in him, maintaining its spark against its own encroachments?
He closed his eyes. Why think, why reason? There was no answer. His continuance was an accident and an attendant bovinity. He was just too dumb to end it all, and that was about the size of it. #Quote by Richard Matheson

#20. I read used books because fingerprint-smudged and dog-eared pages are heavier on the eye. Because every book can belong to many lives. Books should be kept in public places and step out with passersby who'll onto them for a spell. Books should die like people, consumed by aches and pains, infected, drowning off a bridge together with the suicides, poked into a potbellied stove, torn apart by children to make paper boats. They should die of anything, in other words, except boredom, as private property condemned to a life sentence on a shelf. #Quote by Erri De Luca

#21. I stopped struggling, going limp in his arms. He reached around us and shoved the door closed, spinning around and facing us toward the kitchen.
"I was trying to make you breakfast."
It took a moment for his words and their meaning to sink in. I stared dumbfounded across the room and past the island. There was smoke billowing up from the stove and the window above the sink was wide open.
Bowls and spoons littered the island and there was a carton of eggs sitting out.
He was trying to cook.
He was really bad at it.
I started to laugh.
The kind of laugh that shook my shoulders and bubbled up hysterically. My heart rate was still out of control, and I took in a few breaths between laughs to try and calm it down.
He said something, but I couldn't hear him because the fire alarm was still going off. I had no doubt half the neighborhood was now awake from the sound. He didn't bother to put me down, instead hauling me along with him, where he finally set me down, dragged a chair over near the alarm, and climbed up to remove the battery.
The noise cut off and the kitchen fell silent.
"Well, shit," he said, staring at the battery in his hand.
A giggle escaped me. "Does this always happen when you cook?"
He shrugged. "The only time I ever cook is when it's my turn at the station." His forehead creased and a thoughtful look came over his face. "The guys are never around when it's my night to cook. Now I know why." H #Quote by Cambria Hebert

#22. But Mama
at first I tried to pretend she was only gone, like on a trip. And then when I couldn't do that anymore, I tried to believe she was dead.' Her nose was running, from emotion, whisky, or the heat of the tea. Roger reached for the tea towel hanging by the stove and shoved it across the tabe to her. 'She isn't, though.' She picked up the towel and wiped angrily at her nose. 'That's the trouble! I have to miss her all the time, and know that I'll never see her again, but she isn't even dead! How can I mourn for her, when I think-when I hope-she's happy where she is, when I made her go? #Quote by Diana Gabaldon

#23. 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

#24. TOM!"
No answer.
"TOM!"
No answer.
"What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!"
No answer.
The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not service
she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. #Quote by Mark Twain

#25. All that evening Nell sat alone in her bedroom trembling with curious satisfaction. For punishment Eva had been sent to her room without supper and Nell sat listening now to the even, steady sobs far off down the hall. It was dark and on the river shore a night bird tried its note cautiously against the silence. Down in the pantry, the dishes done, Suse and Jessie, dark as night itself, drank coffee by the great stove and mumbled over stories of the old times before the War. Nell fetched her smelling salts and sniffed the frosted stopper of the flowered bottle till the trembling stopped. ("Where The Woodbine Twineth") #Quote by Davis Grubb

#26. That's when the realization comes. It swims up out of her subconscious in the same way that a nightmare does. Or when you leave the house and remember half an hour later that you left a teakettle going on the stove. It's a cold clammy reality that she can't do a damn thing about. #Quote by Neal Stephenson

#27. Cash winks at me from in front of the stove and pure lust twitches in my lower belly. There's no denying this man is hot. Effing hot. Probably hotter than the stove he's cooking on. #Quote by M. Leighton

#28. Kids only learn that the stove is hot when they put their finger on and they burn it. This, unfortunately, is the limitation of our precious brain. #Quote by Hasso Plattner

#29. In the restaurant business, there's the concept of pivot. Pivot to the stove, pivot to the refrigerator. #Quote by Tom Douglas

#30. She wandered over to the enclosed range, a rather modern-looking contraption that Cook had purchased earlier in the year.
"Do you know how to work this?" she asked.
"No idea. You? "
Daphne shook her head. "None." She reached forward and gingerly touched the surface of the stove top. "It's not hot. "
" Not even a little bit? "
She shook her head. "It's rather cold, actually. "
Brother and sister were silent for a few seconds .
" You know," Anthony finally said, "cold milk might be quite refreshing ."
" I was just thinking that very thing! #Quote by Julia Quinn

#31. Like it! Yes - the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and I'll stick to 'em, too. #Quote by Mark Twain

#32. They sat down to eat after Honor set the table. He knew she wanted to help in some way, but there was no way he'd let her near the stove. "Stop grinning at me like that," she said after she swallowed her first bite. "Yes, you're an amazing cook, and I love eating your food, but that smile means you're thinking about how I'm not allowed near your stove. It was one time, Jacks. One time." "You burned the pot, Honor. Boiling water. Water, Honor. #Quote by Carrie Ann Ryan

#33. The timer rang and I went to take two more sweet potato cakes out of the oven. There was a pot of sweet potatoes simmering on the stove. The kitchen was a warm and steamy place that smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg. A tropical rain forest of baking. #Quote by Jeanne Ray

#34. He went out of the compartment and returned a few moments later with a small spirit stove and a pair of curling tongs. "I use them for the moustaches," he said, referring to the latter. #Quote by Agatha Christie

#35. My kitchen in New York City is in the Richard Meier building on Perry Street, so it's ultra-modern: white, glass and transparent. It's 180 square feet, with an induction stove. Everything's hidden, so you don't see the microwave or the fridge. #Quote by Jean-Georges Vongerichten

#36. The stove, she knew, wished it were a volcano, the humble teaspoons wished they were steamshovels, and the sink wished it were a well so all the others could have their wishes. Yet they all stayed exactly the same no matter what they wished, no matter what they saw and heard. #Quote by Georgess McHargue

#37. Some of us are darkness lovers. We do not dislike the early and late daylight of June, but we cherish the increasing dark of November, which we wrap around ourselves in the prosperous warmth of wood stove, oil and electric blanket. Inside our warmth we fold ourselves, partly tuber, partly bear, in the dark and its cold - around us, outside us, safely away from us. We tuck ourselves up in the comfort of cold's opposite, warming ourslves by thought of the cold, lighting ourselves by darkness's idea. #Quote by Donald Hall

#38. A philosopher may try to prove the truth of something he believed before he was a philosopher, but even if he succeeds, his belief never regain the untroubled character, and the settled place in his mind, which it had at first. #Quote by David Stove

#39. Fences, unlike punishments, clearly mark out the perimeters of any specified territory. Young children learn where it is permissible to play, because their backyard fence plainly outlines the safe area. They learn about the invisible fence that surrounds the stove, and that Grandma has an invisible barrier around her cabinet of antique teacups. #Quote by Jeanne Elium

#40. My daughter lives in an apartment (hovel) in Brooklyn, so disgusting the roaches don't even bother hiking up the four flights of stairs to her door. Did I mention that she has a family of mice living under her stove? If she would promise to carry a weapon in her bag, I would never ask her to visit again. Best Mother's Day gift I could ask for! #Quote by Kate Siegel

#41. Who in hell bought a mug with blue butterflies on it!" I shouted, slamming it on the counter beside the stove. "We are serious people doing serious things! I don't have time for butterflies! #Quote by Kim Harrison

#42. When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute - it's longer than an hour. That's relativity! Albert Einstein #Quote by Marcus Chown

#43. There is nothing more mysterious than a TV set left on in an empty room. It is even stranger than a man talking to himself or a woman standing dreaming at her stove. It is as if another planet is communicating with you. #Quote by Jean Baudrillard

#44. There is a well-known joke - at least well known in mathematics - about how mathematicians work. A mathematician and a Starbucks barista are each placed in front of a stove with a kettle and a nearby faucet and told to make boiling water. Both do the same thing. They fill the kettle with water from the faucet, light the stove with a match, and place the water-filled kettle on the stove. Mission accomplished. The mathematician and the Starbucks barista are next placed in front of a stove with a kettle that they are told is filled with clean water and told to make boiling water yet again. The barista lifts the kettle off the stove for a moment, lights the stove, and puts the kettle back on. The mathematician lifts the kettle off the stove, pours out the water into a sink, puts the newly emptied kettle back on the stove and says, "The problem has been reduced to the previously solved case. Q.E.D. #Quote by Stuart Rojstaczer

#45. My best travelling experience lasted several years: between 1971 and 1974 when I bummed around the East. All I had with me was a cooking pot, a stove, a map and blankets and a couple of dhotis. #Quote by Antony Gormley

#46. Daddy Jack and Fanny don't care what I do as long as I stay out of the kitchen. She looms over the stove, madly coating everything she cooks with cayenne pepper and several shakes of Tabasco. #Quote by Frances Mayes