Brown Skin Quotes

Rhosh, remember the being's skin, smooth, dark brown skin, like this one's skin, and the being's hair. The hair was the same, thick like this and with loose curls and the very same golden streak in it, only broader and on the right side of the head. ~ Anne Rice

Nearly all black and brown skins are beautiful, but a beautiful white skin is rare. ~ Mark Twain

Hey," said a soft voice.
Emma turned to see a boy with wavy hair and light brown skin looking at them with a mixture of annoyance and - no, it was mostly just annoyance.
"Raphael Santiago?" she said. ~ Cassandra Clare

He also had deep brown eyes, light brown skin and an infectious grin, even in the middle of a grueling SWAT workout. In short, exactly her type. If only he wasn't a teammate, making him off-limits. And if only she didn't have baggage from her past that weighed more than he did. ~ Elizabeth Heiter

African-Americans who might have disagreed with candidate Obama's left-of-center politics voted for him in 2008 because electing a candidate with brown skin was too historic an opportunity to miss. ~ Alveda King

No, I'm NOT Team Light Skin. No, I'm NOT Team Dark Skin. No, I'm NOT Team Brown Skin. I'm Team Melanin because we are one! I'm a Black Queen that celebrates ALL shades of Black beauty. Black women and Black girls are equally beautiful in EVERY shade. Our skin tones are Exquisite Beauty. Respect the complexion! ~ Stephanie Lahart

Despite a seemingly pervasive belief that only people of colour 'play the race
card', it does not take anything as dramatic as a slave revolution or Japanese
imperialism to evoke white racial anxieties, something as trivial as the casting of
non-white people in films or plays in which a character was 'supposed' to be
white will do the trick. For example, the casting of Olivier award-winning
actress Noma Dumezweni to play the role of Hermione in the debut West End
production of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child got bigots so riled up that J. K.
Rowling felt the need to respond and give her blessing for a black actress to play
the role. A similar but much larger controversy occurred when the character Rue
in the film The Hunger Games was played by a black girl, Amandla Stenberg.
Even though Rue is described as having brown skin in the original novel, 'fans'


of the book were shocked and dismayed that the movie version cast a brown girl
to play the role, and a Twitter storm of abuse about the ethnic casting of the role
ensued. You have to read the responses to truly appreciate how angry and
abusive they are.- As blogger Dodai Stewart pointed out at the time:

All these . . . people . . . read The Hunger Games. Clearly, they all fell in
love with and cared about Rue. Though what they really fell in love with was
an image of Rue that they'd created in their minds. ~ Akala

A dam inside my own heart opened up, and the feelings of heaviness and unease lifted like wind against the winter sky. I loved him. I loved his slow wit and his gruff demeanor and his tender disposition. I loved his endless empathy and his world-weary cynicism and his innocence. I loved that he was a walking, breathing paradox. I loved his lank hair and his iron earring and the tooth missing at the back of his mouth. I loved the way he laughed, music incomparable to any song, and the way he smiled, like you could see the child in him and the animal in him and the man in him all at once. I loved that he listened to crappy music, the kind that made me want to put my head through a wall, and I loved the charcoal stains on his knuckles and the pencils he tucked behind his ears. I loved that he told me to shut up as though I could actually say anything. I loved that he made me feel as though I could. I loved his short fingers and his rough palms and his long legs and his flat belly. I loved that he liked to read Kerouac but didn't know how to pronounce Kerouac. I loved his brown skin and his blue tattoos and his tempestuous blue eyes. I loved that he loved the land. I loved him. I loved him. Oh, God. I loved him. ~ Rose Christo

You see someone more interesting than me?" asked Simon. In the dream he was mysteriously an expert dance. He steered her through the crowd as if she were a leaf caught in a river current. He was wearing all black, like a shadow hunter, and it showed his coloring to a good advantage: dark hair, lighted brown skin,white teeth. He's handsome, Clary thought, with a jolt of surprise. "There's no one more interesting than you," Clary said. "It's just this place. I've never seen anything like it." She turned again as they passed a champagne fountain ... She was now dancing with Jace, who was wearing white, the material of his shirt a thin cotton ... ~ Cassandra Clare

Tarquin turned from the table, just as the tent flaps parted for a pair of broad shoulders -

Varian. He didn't so much as look at his High Lord, his focus going right to where Amren sat at the head of the table. As if he'd sensed she was here - or someone had reported. And he'd come running.

Amren's eyes flicked up from the Book as Varian halted. A coy smile curved her red lips.

There was still blood and dirt splattered on Varian's brown skin, coating his silver armor and close-cropped white hair. He didn't seem to notice or care as he strode for Amren.

And none of us dared to speak as Varian dropped to his knees before Amren's chair, took her shocked face in his broad hands, and kissed her soundly.
...
None of us lasted long after dinner.

Amren and Varian didn't even bother to join us.

No, she'd just wrapped her legs around his waist, right there in front of us, and he'd stood, lifting her in one swift movement. I wasn't entirely sure how Varian managed to walk them out of the tent while still kissing her, Amren's hands dragging through his hair, letting out noises that were unnervingly like purring as they vanished into the camp.

Rhys had let out a low laugh as we all gawked in their wake. "I suppose that's how Varian decided he'd tell Amren he was feeling rather grateful she ordered us to go to Adriata."

Tarquin cringed. "We'll alternate who has to deal with them on holidays. ~ Sarah J. Maas

So I stand up and face the officer, daring her to look away from my smooth brown skin, the dark rings of my nipples, the swell of my belly, the thatch of hair between my legs. She hands me the orange scrubs that are designed to conform me, and the ID tag with my inmate number, meant to define me as part of a group, instead of an individual. I stare at her until she meets my eye. "My name," I say, "is Ruth." - ~ Jodi Picoult

I have no idea what Paloma looks like-what she'll be like.
I have no idea what to expect.
I should've asked more questions.
I should've used the last ten hours to grill Chay until he broke-until he confided every dark and dirty secret Paloma is hiding.
Instead,I chose to eat.And read.And dream about some phantom boy with smooth brown skin,icy-blue eyes, and long glossy black hair-a boy I've never even met in real life.
Lot of good it did me. ~ Alyson Noel

I remember I went through a period where I didn't embrace my 'chocolatiness.' I don't know if that's a word, but I didn't embrace my chocolate lifestyle. Just being a chocolate, lovely brown skin girl and being proud of that. ~ Kelly Rowland

Bennie has light brown skin and excellent eyes, and he irons his hair in a Mohawk as shiny black as a virgin record. ~ Jennifer Egan

Her ruddy brown skin had the texture of pebbled linoleum. ~ Elizabeth Kolbert

It's infuriating that yesterday, my father had to pull all my younger cousins into a room and tell them to be more careful. He had to explain that in some cases, their brown skin convicts them before an offense is even committed. ~ Janelle Gray

She couldn't honestly deny he was extremely appealing physically. His rugged face, his wild dark hair, his warm brown skin. And even though she would never tell him, she loved the way he moved, with total confidence, as though nothing in the world could harm him. It made her less fearful when she was around him. As if boldness and bravery did not always end in defeat. ~ Stephanie Garber

People think if you describe someone with glistening brown skin you're writing about race, as if the whole of the African diaspora is in someone's brown skin. ~ Jamaica Kincaid

Ransie was a narrow six feet of sallow brown skin and yellow hair. The imperturbability of the mountains hung upon him like a suit of armor. The woman was calicoed, angled, snuff-brushed, and weary with unknown desires. Through it all gleamed a faint protest of cheated youth unconscious of its loss. ~ O. Henry

The creature had nut-brown skin mixed with patches of ash. It was human-sized and formed, but its skin looked like the bark of an old, old tree. About the same height as Donna, it was spindly with arms and legs that were all joints and angles. Its face was narrow and pointed, with hair on top of its head like thick moss and narrow black eyes that glinted even in the dim light of the room. The thing's body was clothed in lichen and moss, with vines twining around its sharp limbs. The creature opened its lipless mouth, a dark slash across its twisted face.

Donna's mind flashed back to the party and the shadow she'd seen sliding through the darkness outside Xan's house. She hadn't been imagining things, after all.

The wood elves had returned to the city. ~ Karen Mahoney

I was gazing at a cup of cocoa on my night table.
As I focused on the thick brown skin that had formed upon its surface like ice on a muddy pond something at the root of my tongue leapt like a little goat and my stomach turned over. There are not many things that I despise but chiefest among them is skin on milk. I loathe it with a passion.
Not even the thought of the marvelous chemical change that forms the stuff - the milk's proteins churned and ripped apart by the heat of boiling then reassembling themselves as they cool into a jellied skin - was enough to console me. I would rather eat a cobweb. ~ Alan Bradley

One moment, she was wearing clothing, and the next moment, she was wearing a bikini. Fifty percent of the world was brown skin and fifty percent was orange nylon. From the Mona Lisa smile on Orla's lips, it was clear she was pleased to finally be allowed to demonstrate her true talents.
A tiny part of Gansey's brain said: You have been staring for too long.
The larger part of his brain said: ORANGE. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Making me think I am a worthy crown
When all I really was … just brown ~ Sijdah Hussain

You are beautiful. You have always been beautiful, and you need to believe that you are. Even if the magazines don't appreciate your wide hips or your glowing brown skin; dark and soft like honey, learn how to love yourself. This body is the only home you'll have in this lifetime, so my darling, learn how to embrace every scar, freckle and mole. You are made out of the same atoms that formed Frida Kahlo and Picasso. You are art and you need to have faith in that. ~ Thushena Ganesh

Never had he beheld such a magnificent brown skin, so entrancing a figure, such dainty, transparent fingers. He stood gazing in wonder at her work-basket as if it was something extraordinary. What was her name? Where did she live and what sort of life did she lead? What was her past? He wanted to know what furniture she had in her bedroom, the dresses she wore, the people she knew; even his physical desire for her gave way to a deeper yearning, a boundless, aching curiosity. ~ Gustave Flaubert

This seat taken?" My eyes grazing over the only other occupant, a guy with long glossy dark hair with his head bent over a book.
"It's all yours," he says. And when he lifts his head and smiles,my heart just about leaps from my chest.
It's the boy from my dreams.
The boy from the Rabbit Hole,the gas station,and the cave-sitting before me with those same amazing,icy-blue eues, those same alluring lips I've kissed multiple times-but only in slumber, never in waking life.
I scold my heart to settle,but it doesn't obey.
I admonish myself to sit,to act normal, casual-and I just barely succeed.
Stealing a series of surreptitious looks as I search through my backpack, taking in his square chin,wide generous lips,strong brow,defined cheekbones, and smooth brown skin-the exact same features as Cade.
"You're the new girl,right?" He abandons his book,tilting his head in a way that causes his hair to stream over his shoulder,so glossy and inviting it takes all of my will not to lean across the table and touch it.
I nod in reply,or at least I think I do.I can't be too sure.I'm too stricken by his gaze-the way it mirrors mine-trying to determine if he knows me, recognizes me,if he's surprised to find me here.Wishing Paloma had better prepared me-focused more on him and less on his brother.
I force my gaze from his.Bang my knee hard against the table as I swivel in my seat.Feeling so odd and unsettled,I wish I'd picked another place to sit, thoug ~ Alyson Noel

Skin the colour of chestnuts ~ Bernard Cornwell

She couldn't help stealing a covert glance at the exposed part of his torso, the flesh so firm and tanned it appeared to have been cast in bronze. Lower down near his hip, the satiny brown skin merged into a line of ivory. The sight was so intriguing- and intimate- that she felt her stomach tighten pleasurably. Leaning over him as she was, she couldn't help breathing in the dusty, sweaty, sun-heated scent of him. A stunning urge seized her, to touch that brown-and-white borderline with her fingertip, trace a path across his body. ~ Lisa Kleypas

My Uncle, of course, would have been pleased to see someone with brown skin holding the office of president. ~ Alveda King

Why should anyone think a white skin superior in evaluating the qualities of human life? I did not really admire a white skin so much myself. Did I not prefer the brown skin that came with exposure to the sun? ~ Charles Lindbergh

Anna's attention was focused on a single patient. Ariadne Bridgestock lay quietly against the white pillows. Her eyes were shut, and her rich brown skin was ashen, stretching tightly over the branching black veins beneath her skin.
Anna slipped in between the screens surrounding Ariadne's cot, and Cordelia followed, feeling slightly awkward. Was she intruding? But Anna looked up, as if to assure herself that Cordelia was there, before she knelt down at the side of Ariadne's bed, laying her walking stick on the floor.
Anna's bowed shoulders looked strangely vulnerable. One of her hands dangled at her side: she reached out the other, fingers moving slowly across the white linen sheets, until she was almost touching Ariadne's hand.
She did not take it. At the last moment, Anna's fingers curled and dropped to rest, beside Ariadne but not quite touching. In a low and steady voice, Anna said, "Ariadne. When you wake up - and you will wake up - I want you to remember this. It was never a sign of your worth that Charles Fairchild wanted to marry you. It is a measure of his lack of worth that he chose to break it off in such a manner."
"He broke it off?" Cordelia whispered. She was stunned. The breaking off of a promised engagement was a serious matter, undertaken usually only when one of the parties in question had committed some kind of serious crime or been caught in an affair. For Charles to break his promise to Ariadne while she lay unconscious was appalling. ~ Cassandra Clare

Mira Levenson. Aged twelve. Looks, long dark shiny hair, dark brown eyes (almost black), brown skin. Beautiful. Favorite colour, copper orange, I think. Personality, clever, bright, serious, shy, funny without realizing it, holds back her thoughts, mystery girl, arty. What I've noticed: she's stronger than she thinks she is; she doesn't speak much ay school. What I know: she's got a loud laugh (when she lets it out). Her best friend is Millie Lockhart. She doesn't need Millie as much as she thinks she does. Her grandmother is dying and she loves her. She started talking in Pat Print's class. I know she doesn't know how much I think of her, how much I miss her if she's not around. What I think she thinks about me is that I'm a bit of a joker, but I'm deadly serious.

Deer...apple...green...sea...
See you on Friday!
Love
Jidé ~ Sita Brahmachari

I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn't fight.
He hadn't fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
He was speckled with barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.
While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
- the frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly -
I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
- It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his ~ Elizabeth Bishop

When every province of the world so teems with inhabitants that they can neither subsist where they are nor remove themselves elsewhere ... the world will purge itself. - Bertrand Zobrist ~ Dan Brown

Don't even know why, but I got to that part, and I...God, it hit me, you know? The truth of those damn words the Skin Horse spoke. Being real could hurt. That's what...what living is all about and the opposite is unimaginable. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I've learned that education, experience, and memories are three things that no one can take away from you. ~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Effort + the courage to show up = enough. ~ Brene Brown

My bare arms are only a relief for the first few minutes before the unobstructed sun finds my fair skin, and I swear I can hear the rays chuckle with delight at such a tasty meal. ~ Sara Raasch

To me, a leader is someone who holds her- or himself accountable for finding potential in people and processes. And so what I think is really important is sustainability. ~ Brene Brown

As he spoke, the edges of the clay man began shimmering, like air does in intense heat, and the lumpen form gradually became more manlike. "Something's happening!" I cried. I was paralyzed by shock and hope. "Please let it work. Come back, Vincent. You have to come back, I whispered, pleading.
Red clay became olive-toned skin, and the bald head became waves of raven black hair. The face that Jules had carefully sculpted became a real nose and mouth and eyes, closed as if in sleep. But it lay there, still unmoving, until, focusing on the air just above, Bran yelled, "Come, bardia spirit, inhabit this body!" He made one final sweeping gesture, as if pulling the aura downward, and touching his fingers to the body's side.
The eyes flew open and Vincent took a great gulping gasp, as if trying to swallow all of the oxygen in the room.
"Vincent," I said, my heart in my throat.
His eyes flew to mine. He reached toward me, and I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek. His skin was burning hot, like with a fever. I kissed his fingers, and his skin smelled like fire and rain-soaked earth. Like the boy I thought I would never touch again. ~ Amy Plum

Remember," Duncan asked on the plane, "how Walt asked if it was green or brown?"
Both Garp and Duncan laughed. But it was neither green nor brown, Garp thought. It was me. It was Helen. It was the color of bad weather. It was the size of an automobile. ~ John Irving

A smart girl is confident, and confident girls are pretty and powerful. And when you get a group of pretty powerful girls together, they're unstoppable. ~ Bobbi Brown

When we ask for anything, we're almost always asking for help, in some form; help with money, permission, acceptance, advancement, help with our hearts ...
Brene Brown has found through her research that women tend to feel shame around the idea of being 'never enough' ... at home, at work, in bed, never pretty enough, never smart enough, never thin enough, never good enough ...
Men tend to feel shame around the fear of being perceived as weak, or more academically, 'fear of being called a pussy'.
Both sexes get trapped in the same box for different reasons.
If I ask for help ...
I am not enough.
If I ask for help ...
I'm weak.
It's no wonder so many of us don't bother to ask, it's too painful. ~ Amanda Palmer

Republican leadership in Congress let the energy companies write the energy bill that sent prices soaring, and has turned a blind eye to the struggles of working families trying to make ends meet. ~ Sherrod Brown

On the other hand, for those of us who have the tendency to believe that everything worthwhile should involve pain and suffering (like yours truly), I've also learned that never fun, fast, and easy is as detrimental to hope as always fun, fast, and easy. Given my abilities to chase down a goal and bulldog it until it surrenders from pure exhaustion, I resented learning this. Before this research I believed that unless blood, sweat, and tears were involved, it must not be that important. I was wrong. Again. ~ Brene Brown

When you win, say nothing. When you lose, say less. ~ Paul Brown

The Bush administration has now provided three case studies in arrogance, isolation and destructiveness: Michael Brown during Hurricane Katrina, Ambassador Jerry Bremer in Baghdad and Secretary Paulson at Treasury. It is a tragic and very expensive legacy. No conservative and no Republican should doubt how much it has hurt our cause and our party. ~ Newt Gingrich

The equality in political, industrial and social life which modern men must have in order to live, is not to be confounded with sameness. On the contrary, in our case, it is rather insistence upon the right of diversity; - upon the right of a human being to be a man even if he does not wear the same cut of vest, the same curl of hair or the same color of skin. Human equality does not even entail, as it is sometimes said, absolute equality of opportunity; for certainly the natural inequalities of inherent genius and varying gift make this a dubious phrase. But there is more and more clearly recognized minimum of opportunity and maximum of freedom to be, to move and to think, which the modern world denies to no being which it recognizes as a real man. ~ W.E.B. Du Bois

In a flash, the previously lusty green irises morphed into an angry blood red. Nadua stood with a gasp, not sure what was happening to him. The horns that peeked out of his sandy brown hair began to alter their color as well, taking on the cast of burning embers. Razor-sharp fangs peeked out from his lips, twisted in rage. This was how he had looked when he was tearing through her men. ~ Kiersten Fay

Wandering back into the bedroom, my gaze immediately strayed to the large bed along the wall and the lump beneath the covers. Pale light streamed through the half-open curtains, settling around the still-sleeping form of a Winter sidhe. Or a former Winter sidhe. Pausing in the doorframe, I took advantage of the serene moment just to watch him, a tiny flutter going through my stomach. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that he was here, that this wasn't a dream or a mirage or a figment of my imagination. That he was mine forever: my husband, my knight.
My faery with a soul.

He lay on his stomach, arms beneath the pillow, breathing peacefully, his dark hair falling over his eyes. The covers had slipped off his lean, muscular shoulders, and the early morning rays caressed his pale skin. Normally, I didn't get to watch him sleep; he was usually up before me, in the courtyard sparring with Glitch or just prowling the halls of the castle. In the early days of our marriage, especially, I'd wake up in the middle of the night to find him gone, the hyper-awareness of his warrior days making it impossible for him to stay in one place, even to sleep. He'd grown up in the Unseelie Court, where you had to watch your back every second of every day, and centuries of fey survival could not be forgotten so easily. That paranoia would never really fade, but he was gradually starting to relax now, to the point where sometimes, though not often, I would wake with him still be ~ Julie Kagawa

Then I will skin it and suck all the blood out of it unless it's a Troll. Trolls taste like ass. We tried two of the randy bastards just to make sure and we will not be imbibing Troll again any time soon, ~ Robyn Peterman

My life is more than my marks show, surely? I more to tell than this. My skin tells of the tale the government has chosen for me. I have a sudden yearning to fill every inch so that nothing is lost. ~ Alice Broadway

Nadia now lies back as her body perks up at me like the white lotus that reaches for the sun's love. I now come into Nadia with all of my love, my lips running over her silk skin like water drifting downstream. Her kisses are filled with an incredible ability to give as her body merges into mine. The sounds of relief escaping her lips commend my escape, transcending me into the absolute pureness of love's unseen realm. ~ Luccini Shurod

Waste makes haste. ~ Angela Khristin Brown

You might fall down on your face
Roll the dice and have some faith ~ Zac Brown

They have made me understand how the City can get under your skin, and never be sweated out. I mean, it's still aesthetically traumatic, but it's got spirit. ~ Kamila Shamsie

Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
It must eat and breath air and sleep,
It has thin skin and blood right underneath,
An adequate stock of teeth and nails,
Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.

Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it is shuddered
Before the founding of Rome and after,
In the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it's just the earth that's grown smaller,
And whatever happens seems on the other side of the wall.

Nothing has changed.
It's just that there are more people,
Besides the old offenses, new ones have appeared,
Real, imaginary, temporary, and none,
But the howl with which the body responds to them,
Was, and is, and ever will be a howl of innocence
According to the time-honored scale and tonality.

Nothing has changed.
Maybe just the manners, ceremonies, dances,
Yet the movement of the hands in protecting the head is the same.
The body writhes, jerks, and tries to pull away
Its legs give out, it falls, the knees fly up,
It turns blue, swells, salivates, and bleeds.

Nothing has changed.
Except of course for the course of boundaries,
The lines of forests, coasts, deserts, and glaciers.
Amid these landscapes traipses the soul,
Disappears, comes back, draws nearer, moves a ~ Wisława Szymborska

The act of focusing our mightiest intellectual resources on the elusive goal of goto-less programs has helped us get our minds off all those really tough and possibly unresolvable problems and issues with which today's professional programmer would otherwise have to grapple ~ John Brown

Oh sweet December,
You bring us Charlie Brown, chestnuts and candy canes,
You add such sweetness to your name
You bring us garland, gingerbread and mistletoe,
You also bring us everything wrapped in a bow
Oh sweet December-you're so good to us,
You always prepare us for The Christmas fuss ~ Charmaine J Forde

I have more energy to run after our four children. Weight loss and great skin were a bonus! ~ Niecy Nash

The power of empathy is essential in helping those who are societies most vulnerable. ~ Asa Don Brown

Perform your job better than anyone else can. That's the best job security I know. ~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Thick and creamy egg, fragrant roast quail... and the rice! It all makes such a hearty, satisfying combination!
Wait, something just crunched?
"See, there are five parts to a good chicken-and-egg rice bowl.
Chicken... eggs... rice... onions... and warishita.
*Warishita is a sauce made from a combination of broth, soy sauce and sugar.*
"I seared the quail in oil before putting it in the oven to roast. That made the skin nice and crispy... while leaving the meat inside tender and juicy.
For the eggs, I seasoned them with salt and a generous pinch of black pepper to give them some bite and then added cream to make them thick and creamy! It's the creaminess of the soft-boiled egg that makes or breaks a good chicken-and-egg bowl, y'know.
Some milk made the risotto extra creamy. I then mixed in onions as well as ground chicken that was browned in butter. I used the Suer technique on the onions. That should have given some body to their natural sweetness.
For the sauce, I sweetened some Madeira wine with sugar and honey and then added a dash of soy sauce. Like warishita in a regular chicken-and-egg rice bowl, this sauce ties all the parts of the dish together. Try it with the poached egg. It's seriously delicious!
Basically I took the idea of a Japanese chicken-and-egg rice bowl...
... and rebuilt it using only French techniques!"
"Yukihira! I wanna try it too!"
"Oh, uh, sorry. I only made that one."
"Awww!
You ~ Yuto Tsukuda

giving an explanation of why I cut was tough. I didn't even really understand why I did it. I took a deep breath. "Well...when I cut the skin, and feel the pain...and see the blood-it's like I'm letting out this loud scream. ~ J.A. Templeton

They sounded different from the mouth of a young mother than they did from the mouth of a widow. This was because the words did not come straight off the page. They percolated up through the silt and gravel of real people's lives so that the meaning in them was fluid, not fixed. ~ Barbara Brown Taylor

Because I know it in my bones. You are the only female I desire, the only water that will quench my thirst, the only sun that will warm my skin, the only lips that were made for mine. ~ Dannika Dark

the skin like velvet over steel, ~ Roan Parrish

Your own Fear is the greatest obstacle you will ever face on your journey. Let your Faith be bigger than your Fear. ~ Eleanor Brown

Oh, I'm old fashioned, you see," he said, pushing his dark brown hair out of his eyes, only to have the wind whip the locks right back where they were. "I think a man should jump into a frigid river to save a pretty girl."

"But not an ugly one then?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd save her too, but she's not the one teetering on the edge of the railing. ~ Angela Horn

We can revolutionize the attitude of inner city brown and black kids to learning. We need a civil rights movement within the African-American community. ~ Henry Louis Gates

That has to be the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me in my whole life. ~ Charles M. Schulz