Cranberries Quotes

In Ireland, it's been like U2 and The Cranberries, which is rock, but you know they're Irish. ~ Caroline Corr

If you've got red hair, try washing it in cranberry juice. And, if you're blonde, a champagne rinse can work wonders. ~ Nicole Kidman

I've spent a lot of Thanksgivings on the road with my band, so anytime that I can spend Thanksgiving with my family in a traditional aspect, eating sweet potatoes and cranberries and stuffing and all the trappings of Thanksgiving and then get on a treadmill the next day extra long, I'm happy. ~ Richie Sambora

Why, I've seen Kentuckians who hated whiskey, Virginians who weren't descended from Pocahontas, Indianians who hadn't written a novel, Mexicans who didn't wear velvet trousers with silver dollars sewed along the seams, funny Englishmen, spendthrift Yankees, cold-blooded Southerners, narrow- minded Westerners, and New Yorkers who were too busy to stop for an hour on the street to watch a one-armed grocer's clerk do up cranberries in paper bags. Let a man be a man and don't handicap him with the label of any section. ~ O. Henry

Here's a Thanksgiving tip. Generally, your turkey is not cooked enough if it passes you the cranberry sauce. ~ Joan Rivers

I hated cranberry sauce, but for some reason my mom persisted in her lifelong belief that it was my very favorite food, even though every single Thanksgiving I politely declined to include it on my plate. ~ John Green

I went to the juice isle, I learned something. Cranberries are taking over everything. What do you got, apples? Put some cranberrise in there, make it 50/50. Cran-apple. Grapes? Cran-grape. Mangos? Cran-mango. Pork chops? Cran-chop! ~ Brian Regan

Unhappiness where's when I was young,
And we didn't give a damn,
'Cause we were raised,
To see life as fun and take it if we can. ~ Dolores O'Riordan

Q: Why did the cranberries turn so red?
A: They saw the salad dressing!

Q: What was the Pilgrim's favorite music?
A: Plymouth rock!

Q: What's the best way to eat turkey on Thanksgiving?
A: Gobble it.

Q: What key do you use the most on Thanksgiving?
A: A tur-key!

Q: What did the turkey say when the Pilgrim grabbed him by the tail feathers?
A: That's the end of me!

Q: What did the turkey say just before it was popped into the oven?
A: I'm really stuffed. ~ Peter Roop

All my life is changing every day in every possible way. ~ Cranberries

Sirine puts a forkful of sweet potatoes into her mouth. The potatoes are soft as velvet, the gravy satiny. It is as if she can taste the life inside all those ingredients: the stem that the cranberries grew on, the earth inside the bread, even the warm blood inside the turkey. It comes back to her, the small secret that was always hers, for years, the only truth she seemed to possess- that food was better than love: surer, truer, more satisfying and enriching. As long as she could lose herself in the rhythms of peeling an onion, she was complete and whole. And as long as she could cook, she would be loved. ~ Diana Abu-Jaber

cream butter, both sugars and eggs. Add vanilla and mix well. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, and oats. Add flour mixture to butter mixture, mix until just moistened. Fold in coconut, cranberries, and pecans. Drop by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet about 2 inches apart. Bake for 12 to 14 minutes or until golden brown. ~ Sara Winlet

Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water! And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does. Now, uh ... now you tell me what you know. ~ Groucho Marx

Eight o'clock, no later,
You light the lamps,
The big one by the large window,
The small one on your desk,
They are not to see by--
It is still twilight out over the sand,
The scrub oaks and cranberries.
Even the small birds have not settled
For sleep yet, out of the reach
Of prowling foxes. No,
You light the lamps because
You are alone in your small house
And the wicks sputtering gold
Are like two visitors with good stories
They will tell slowly, in soft voices,
While the air outside turns quietly
A grainy and luminous blue.
You wish it would never change--
But of course the darkness keeps
Its appointment. Each evening,
An inscrutable presence, it has the final word
Outside every door. ~ Mary Oliver Rotman

The chokecherries -- gregarious and chatty, perched on their branches calling out to everyone to strip them off. Wild plums -- sarcastic and timid at the same time -- called out from behind their leaves only to retreat into the brushy brambles where they lived. Raspberries and blackberries -- royal and corrupt princes -- braved it out in the full sun of forest clearings. Gooseberries and huckleberries -- reticent, tradition-bound and private -- lived on unbothered in the swamps. Cranberries and pincherries (those party-goers) draped themselves over the furniture of the branches and invited all passerby, birds and people, to join the party. The blueberries and wintergreen grew undisturbed -- calmly bourgeois -- in the carpeted hush of the big woods. ~ David Treuer

I don't know what in the hell's going on with cranberries, but they're getting in all the other juices. Whoever the salesman is for cranberries is doing a great job. He's showing up everywhere. Hey, what do you got, some apples? Put some cranberries in there. We'll call it cran-apple and go 50-50. What do you got grapes? How about cran-grape. What do you got mangos? Cran-mango. What do you got pork chops? Cran-chops. Why don't you back off, cran-man. Why don't you take your sales trophy and have a vacation. ~ Brian Regan

We came to the city because we wished to live haphazardly, to reach for only the least realistic of our desires, and to see if we could not learn what our failures had to teach, and not, when we came to live, discover that we had never died. We wanted to dig deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to be overworked and reduced to our last wit. And if our bosses proved mean, why then we'd evoke their whole and genuine meanness afterward over vodka cranberries and small batch bourbons. And if our drinking companions proved to be sublime then we would stagger home at dawn over the Old City cobblestones, into hot showers and clean shirts, and press onward until dusk fell again. For the rest of the world, it seemed to us, had somewhat hastily concluded that it was the chief end of man to thank God it was Friday and pray that Netflix would never forsake them.

Still we lived frantically, like hummingbirds; though our HR departments told us that our commitments were valuable and our feedback was appreciated, our raises would be held back another year. Like gnats we pestered Management - who didn't know how to use the Internet, whose only use for us was to set up Facebook accounts so they could spy on their children, or to sync their iPhones to their Outlooks, or to explain what tweets were and more importantly, why - which even we didn't know. Retire! we wanted to shout. We ha Get out of the way with your big thumbs and your senior moments and your nostalgia for 1976! W ~ Kristopher Jansma

I've always been an outsider kid. But I had always wanted to be in a group - growing up, I loved bands like the Cranberries and K's Choice. ~ Dawn Angelique

My mom is awesome. She's really young. My mom is 40, and she raised me listening to Nirvana and Courtney Love and Coldplay, Gin Blossoms, The Cranberries, and stuff. Like, my early, early memories are of being a little kid running around in floral skirts and Doc Martens when I was, like, three. ~ Halsey

If you take cranberries and stew them like apple sauce, it tastes much more like prunes than rhubarb does. ~ Groucho Marx

So, she tells me, the words dribbling out with the cranberry muffin crumbs, commas dunked in her coffee. ~ Laurie Halse Anderson

I investigated her topnotch features and allusive intentions. She was the typical glitter-headed scene-bitch that one expects to see in a place that is much more happening than a randown bar on the end of town. The type that lives the in-scene and bleeds vodka and cranberries. Fun now, fun for everyone around her, but in ten years, maybe less, she will be a lonely dental assistant or cocktail waitress wondering what happened, where did she go wrong? ~ J.C. Wickhart

I learned something in the juice isle, and that is, I don't know what's going on with cranberries, but they're getting in all the other juices. Whoever the salesman for cranberries does a great job. He's showing up everywhere. Hey what do you got? Apples? Well let's put some cranberries in them; we'll call it cran-apple - go fifty fifty. What do you got? Grapes? What about cran-grape? What do you got? Mangos? Cran-mango! What do you got? Pork chops? Cran-chops! ~ Brian Regan