Cattini Kitchen Quotes

I'm sort of a cavedweller: I miss my house, my yard, my kitchen, my wife. The trees. When I get home, I like to get down into my office neighborhood as soon as I can. ~ John Darnielle

I'm definitely a messy person ... I know where everything is but I just can't organize. I don't make lists and find scripts on the laundry machine, and under my bed, or in the bathroom, kitchen. It's bad, I really need to take control. ~ Katie Holmes

when i left them, i painted myself burgundy and grey
i stopped saying the words "please" and "i'm sorry"
i walked into grocery stores and bought too many
clementines, ordered too much Chinese, spent my
last four dollars on over the counter sleeping pills
that made my stomach bleed but my soul forget
every time i wanted to tell you "i'm sorry", i wrote
you a poem instead, i said things like "i hope your
mother calls you beautiful" to strangers and when
boys with dry hands and broken eyes asked me on
dates i didn't hesitate no, didn't even stop them
when their hands grazed my breasts and when
they moaned my name against my thighs i cried
i opened the mail and didn't tell anyone for a week
that i got accepted into law school, i stopped watering
the plants and filled the bathtub with roses and milk,
when i got invited to parties, i wore blue jeans with
white shirts, sat alone in some kitchen drinking hard
liquor until some boys mouth made me feel like home
i stopped answering the phone for a month, i didn't
like how my name tasted in his mouth but he was
older and didn't say things like "it doesn't matter"
and i think i went insane, my heart boiled blisters, i
couldn't understand why my bones felt like cages,
i walked around art museums until closing, watched
them lock up the gates and then open them up
again the very same morning, i thought ~ Irynka

My mother began to go crazy. Not in a 'Let's paint the kitchen red!' sort of way. But crazy in a 'gas oven, toothpaste sandwhich, I am God' sort of way. ~ Augusten Burroughs

For an entire year he saved all of his trash. Except for what he actually ate, everything was sorted into bins. At year's end, his living room and kitchen were filled with nearly a hundred cubic feet of stuff. Some was compostable. But the vast majority was leftover food packaging. Derfel's experimentation shows what happens when someone intentionally holds onto everything. The point of his exercise was to raise consciousness about the environmental impact of one individual's consumer waste. At another level, it demonstrates that we readily discard most of what passes though daily life as useless trash. ~ Richard J. Borden

Listen, if I can manage it, I'll try to swing home this afternoon for a bit. To - I don't know - help you out or something."
His smile was warm and gorgeous. "See there. You're acting like a wife."
"Shut up."
"I like it," he said, backing her against the door. "Quite a bit. Next thing I know you'll be down in the kitchen, baking."
"Next thing you know I'll be kicking your ass, and you'll be the one who needs round-the-clock care."
"Can we play doctor? ~ J.D. Robb

Taylor held a finger up to Val and Kate. "Hold that thought for a second while I get this."
As she headed into the living room, she overheard Kate mumble to Val, "Hold what thought? I haven't understood a word she's said yet."
Taylor unlocked her front door and opened it. Before she could react, Jason barreled right in, all fired up.
"Where have you been?? I tried calling you - is your cell phone off? I need you to tell me who the hell I can sue. I just met with Marty - we got back the mock-ups for the new publicity posters the studio's going to use to promote Inferno ."
Jason stormed into the kitchen, so engrossed in his rant he didn't notice Valerie and Kate. He opened Taylor's fridge and helped himself to a bottled water.
"And get this," he fumed angrily, "the dumbasses who designed the posters have me pictured in this scene where I'm putting out a fire with all these other firemen. But if you look at the poster from the side, the water from the hose of one of the other firefighters looks like it's shooting right out of my crotch. And the best part is, they want to put this poster over the theater entrance for the premiere. I can just see it - " He gestured grandly to the air. " 'Come see Inferno! Get pissed on by Jason Andrews!'"
With that, he threw Taylor a wink. "It should be right up your alley."
Finished with his rant, Jason took a sip of water. Then he finally noticed Kate and Val. He smiled charmingly.
"Oh. People. Hello."
Julie James

Any time women come together with a collective intention, it's a powerful thing. Whether it's sitting down making a quilt, in a kitchen preparing a meal, in a club reading the same book, or around the table playing cards, or planning a birthday party, when women come together with a collective intention, magic happens. ~ Phylicia Rashad

It doesn't take money to have style, it just takes a really good eye. Sometimes you can find amazing culinary antiques that will make it feel like an old French kitchen. ~ Tyler Florence

Sunday morning dawned bright and cloudless. Ernest awoke early as always. He put on the red "Emporor's robe" and padded softly down the carpeted stairway. The early sunlight lay in pools on the living room floor. He had noticed that the guns were locked up in the basement. But the keys, as he well knew, were on the window ledge above the kitchen sink. He tiptoed down the basement stairs and unlocked the storage room. It smelled as dank as a grave. He chose a double-barreled Boss shotgun with a tight choke. He had used it for years of pigeon shooting. He took some shells from one of the boxes in the storage room, closed and locked the door, and climbed the basement stairs. If he saw the bright day outside, it did not deter him. He crossed the living room to the front foyer, a shrinelike entryway five by seven feet, with oak-paneled walls and a floor of linoleum tile. He had held for years to the maxim: "il faut (d'abord) durer". Now it had been succeeded by another: "il faut (apres tout) mourir". The idea, if not the phrase, filled all his mind. He slipped in two shells, lowered the gun butt carefully to the floor, leaned forward, pressed the twin barrels against his forehead just above the eyebrows, and tripped both triggers. ~ Carlos Baker

Shows like 'Top Chef,' 'Hell's Kitchen' have helped bring attention to the culinary world on a whole, but you have to be cautious it doesn't get out of hand. ~ Geoffrey Zakarian

Frighteningly honest. What Anthony Bourdain did to the world of cooking in Kitchen Confidential, Leopold will do to the world of journalism. It's Sid & Nancy meets All the President's Men. ~ Rob Cohen

She's as magical in the kitchen as Molly Weasley. ~ Grace R. Duncan

I refuse to let him hire a princess in disguise who's hoping to sneak into the next ball wearing a dress as shining as the stars so that Daystar will fall in love with her. Princesses are very persuasive, but most of them aren't much use in the kitchen."
Daystar blinked. "But Mother, we hardly ever have balls. And I really don't think I'd fall in love with someone just because she was wearing a fancy dress."
"Try and convince a princess of that. ~ Patricia C. Wrede

I looked up to find a slim blond figure standing in the doorway to the kitchen. For a frozen second, I looked at him and he looked at me, and then I screamed and threw my coffee, which hit him square in the groin. ~ Karen Chance

I'm really happy. Really! I think people honestly just want to see me as a mum and married and barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. And I just want to say, 'Everybody, relax! It's going to happen.' ~ Jennifer Aniston

The kitchen was the kind of brushed steel monstrosity that looks more like it's designed to weaponise viruses than cook dinner. ~ Ben Aaronovitch

Do they expect us to have sex right here on the kitchen table?"
Gunner, who was chewing a piece of toast, paused, considered the idea, and then shook his head. "Too messy. We'd get sugar everywhere. Plus, Cressy might walk in, and then I'd have to get her a second horse. ~ Katie MacAlister

The kitchen has become a place for nurturing souls as well as coaxing good meals into being. Cooking also serves as a living metaphor, for beauty and delight does not appear in a vacuum of a perfectly ordered and clean life, or kitchen. It takes a lot of messes, small and large, to create a life - and a feast - worth its weight in goodness. ~ Rachel Randolph

We sit on the kitchen exchanging these diabolical outgrowths of overfertile minds. ~ Anais Nin

Show me a woman who is prouder of her clean kitchen than of her collection of lingerie and I'll show you a woman with enlarged pores. ~ Cynthia Heimel

She swayed all the way around the kitchen, touring what had been her domain as clods fell from the skirt of her dress (there was no sign of the quilt or the counterpane) and her head bobbed and rolled on her cut throat. Once it tilted back all the way to her shoulder blades before snapping forward again with a low and fleshy smacking sound. ~ Stephen King

Dwight went on. "I could have signed up. It wasn't hard. I'm more than qualified to be an officer." Bullshit. "Then why didn't you?" "The military is for idiots and the underprivileged. I can see some kid joining up for the money or to get his college paid for, but it's a hell of a trade-off. ~ Zachary J. Kitchen

Cyra," Malan said, nodding as Vakrez eyed Akos. Akos stood up straighter, lifting his chin. He could still hear Vakrez's relentless voice scolding him for slouching, for dragging his feet, for uttering so much as a curse in Thuvhesit.
"Kereseth," Vakrez said. "You look bigger."
"That's because I actually feed him, unlike your barracks kitchen." Cyra thrust a bright green jumpsuit into Akos's arms that was marked L. When he unfolded it, it looked nearly as wide as it was tall, but no reason to complain, as long as he didn't get water in his boots.
"Right you are," Malan said in his reedy voice.
"You used to eat there without complaining," Vakrez said, elbowing him.
"Only because I was trying to get you to notice me," Malan said. "Notice I haven't been back there since. ~ Veronica Roth

The Red Keep was full of cats: lazy old cats dozing in the sun, cold-eyed mousers twitching their tails, quick little kittens with claws like needles, ladies' cats all combed and trusting, ragged shadows prowling the midden heaps. One by one Arya had chased them down and snatched them up and brought them proudly to Syrio Forel … all but this one, this one-eared black devil of a tomcat. "That's the real king of this castle right there," one of the gold cloaks had told her. "Older than sin and twice as mean. One time, the king was feasting the queen's father, and that black bastard hopped up on the table and snatched a roast quail right out of Lord Tywin's fingers. Robert laughed so hard he like to burst. You stay away from that one, child."

He had run her halfway across the castle; twice around the Tower of the Hand, across the inner bailey, through the stables, down the serpentine steps, past the small kitchen and the pig yard and the barracks of the gold cloaks, along the base of the river wall and up more steps and back and forth over Traitor's Walk, and then down again and through a gate and around a well and in and out of strange buildings until Arya didn't know where she was.

Now at last she had him. High walls pressed close on either side, and ahead was a blank windowless mass of stone. Quiet as a shadow, she repeated, sliding forward, light as a feather.

When she was three steps away from him, the tomcat bolted. Left, then right, he wen ~ George R.R. Martin

I FLEW over the rooftops of the city, listened to some jazz at Preservation Hall, drank rainwater down in Pirate's Alley, ducked into a kitchen on Dauphine and Orleans and was fed by an old couple who was sure I was both tame and owned by a neighbor. It was the great thing about the city: nothing really surprised anyone. They expected to see things out of the ordinary. A black panther eating gumbo was normal. ~ Mary Calmes

When she goes about her kitchen duties, chopping, carving, mixing, whisking, she moves with the grace and precision of a ballet dancer, her fingers plying the food with the dexterity of a croupier. ~ Craig Claiborne

They couldn't talk. They were not good talkers, either of them. And once, long ago now, she had bought a notebook for a course. It lay empty and forgotten on the kitchen table until one afternoon, when she had gone out to the shops and he was worried that she would be killed by a bus or by lightning, he opened the notebook and he wrote lines about how he loved her, the way he loved her, about his fucking heart and crap like that, about his body brimful and his scrambled head. All that. She came back from the shops. He left the notebook where it was, and he didn't mention it. And it wasn't until about a week later that he noticed it again, and he flicked it open, and he saw his lines followed by lines from her. She'd written words that she had never said. He sat down. He read them over and over for a long time. Then he wrote a paragraph for her to find. ~ Keith Ridgway

Max walked back to Beeson, sidestepping a slalom path of dog turds leading into the kitchen. He'd narrowly missed standing in a tepee of turds that looked too deliberately arranged to be natural. ~ Nick Stone

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

I felt like I'd culturally arrived when a character on the HBO show 'True Blood' was reading a hardback of 'Heartsick' at Sookie's kitchen table. ~ Chelsea Cain

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

They were silent. Samuel looked at Lindsey.

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

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

"See this shoe?" my father said.

Buckley nodded his head.

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

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

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

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

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

"Is that a dog?"

"Yes, that's a Scottie."

"Mine!"

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

"The shoe?" Buckley asked.

"Right, and I'm the car, ~ Alice Sebold

Deeply moved, she poured the tea while they were finishing up. They came into the kitchen to replace the cleaning things, and she handed two cups to Om.
Noticing the red rose borders, he started to point out her error, "The pink one's for us," then stopped. Her face told him she was aware of it.
"What?" she asked, taking the pink cup for herself, "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing," his voice caught . He turned away, hoping she did not see the film of water glaze his eyes. ~ Rohinton Mistry

This is the best night of my life," Raffy says, crying.
"Raffy, half our House has burnt down," I say wearily. "We don't have a kitchen."
"Why do you always have to be so pessimistic?" she asks. "We can double up in our rooms and have a barbecue every night like the Cadets."
Silently I vow to keep Raffy around for the rest of my life. ~ Melina Marchetta

There's a brown leather section, a green leather section, a red leather section and a tan leather section. Upstairs, there are four bedrooms, all in a row. And everywhere you look there are fireplaces. There's one in every bedroom, there's one in the living room, another in the dining room and still another in the library. There aren't any in the bathrooms or the kitchen. My mother and father call the ~ Judy Blume

He pulled my coat off my shoulders, looked at it with distaste, hung it on the back of one of the chairs pushed in under the kitchen table. "You are beautiful". No one had ever looked me in the eyes and said that.
Eric to Sookie, Page 208. ~ Charlaine Harris

The other is how I could have loved Cristine so fiercely, who was such a world champion bitch, who even came after me once with a kitchen knife. ~ Peter Heller

The place I like best in this world is the kitchen. No matter where it is, no matter what kind, if it's a kitchen, if it's a place where they make food, it's fine with me. Ideally it should be well broken in. Lots of tea towels, dry and immaculate. Where tile catching the light (ting! Ting!) ~ Banana Yoshimoto

A kitchen without an ironing board? Are you kidding? It's un-American. It's like Simon without Garfunkel. ~ Erma Bombeck