Egg And Spoon Quotes

We can't leave just like that." Cat was appalled. "Where can we find you if we need you again?"
[Baba Yaga] "You can't. Listen, Little Drear, I hate saying good-byes. I have a good strategy for avoiding them."
"What's that?" asked Anton.
"I eat my guests. ~ Gregory Maguire

Think of egg and spoon. If there is an egg, well, fine. You eat. Unless you use your spoon to hold the egg out of my reach. Does being in possession of a spoon give you more right to the egg? ~ Gregory Maguire

...In primary school, sports day was the one day of the year when the less academically gifted students could triumph...As if a silver in the egg-and-spoon race was some sort of compensation for not understanding how to use an apostrophe ~ Gail Honeyman

I raised that kid like I was running an egg-and-spoon race through a minefield, and he was the egg. ~ Jonathan Lethem

Some friendships develop like flowers in a garden: they are conscientiously planted and nurtured. The ground about them is kept clear of competition. Then, after some weeks and months of incremental growth and laborious pruning, a flower blooms. Such cultivated friendships are agreeable and convenient, if not enduring. Other friendships seem to arise spontaneously, like an egg in a nest or a freckle upon an arm, and these are often mystifying, as both parties are left to wonder how exactly this unexpected affection took hold. ~ Josiah Bancroft

I don't understand people who eat Chinese food with chopsticks when the restaurant also offers silverware. As a tool, chopsticks are inferior to western utensils like the spoon and fork. So why use them? That's like showing up to a math test with an abacus, knowing that the teacher is going to be handing out calculators. ~ Jarod Kintz

When my best friend came to say goodbye the day before I went into exile - we embraced thinking we would never see each other again because I would never be allowed to return to Romania and she would never be able to leave the country - we couldn't bear to let go of each other. She walked out of the door three times and returned each time. Only after the third time did she leave me, walking straight down the street. I could see her pale jacket getting smaller and smaller and, in a strange way, brighter and brighter the more distant it became. I don't know if it was the winter sunshine of that February day, or the tears making my eyes glisten, or perhaps her jacket was made of some shiny fabric, but one thing I know for sure: as I watched her walk away her back glittered like a silver spoon. In this way, intuitively, I was able to put our parting into words. And that is also the best description of that moment. But what does a silver spoon have to do with a jacket? Nothing at all. Nor does it have anything to do with parting. Yet as a poetic image the spoon and the jacket need one another.

That is why I am mistrustful of language. I know from my own experience that to be accurate, language must always usurp something that doesn't belong to it. I keep asking myself what makes verbal images such thieves, why the most apt comparison appropriates qualities that don't belong to it. To get closer to reality we need to catch the imagination unawares. Only when one percepti ~ Herta Muller

I should at least have learned more about how it had come to be that Rema had abandoned her mother, before I asked her to marry - and hopefully not abandon - me. But I saw Rema all prismatically, all fractured and reconstituted as if seen in the valley of an unshined silver spoon and actually I'm glad love does that, I shouldn't complain about love or love's perspective - distorted or no, to feel superior to it would be wrong, as if there were some better way of seeing. ~ Rivka Galchen

But, no, really, I had it this time. One of my first Salon essays was about confronting my debt, which had gotten so out of control I had to borrow money from my parents. That was a low moment, but it came with a boost of integrity. A free tax attorney helped me calculate the amount I owed the IRS - $40,000 - and put me on a payment plan. My commitment was seven years, which made me feel like the guy in Shawshank Redemption, tunneling out of prison with a spoon. ~ Sarah Hepola

The Netherlands is a wonderful country," said Sigerius. "If you're determined to be a bad egg, there's a great big professional circle of friends ready to help you. Whoever doesn't have the balls to just get out and work, but does have a criminal record, is given a nice subsidized job. ~ Anonymous

SN: how's your day, Ms. Holmes?

Me: Not bad. Yours?

SN: good. been doing my homework in listicle form, because, you know, anything to make it more interesting.

Me: Do you think college will actually be better? For real?

SN: hope so. but then again, I just read about a guy who lost a ball in a frat hazing incident.

Me: Seriously? What is wrong with people?

SN: can you imagine wanting to be liked so badly that you'd give up one of your testicles?

Me: I can neither imagine having testicles nor giving one up.

SN: you won't let me use emojis, but an 'i heart my testes' one would be appropriate right about now.

Me: You know what I heart? Nutella. And pajama pants. And an awesomesauce book. Not necessarily in that order, but together.

SN: awesomesauce? 2012 texted and wants its word back. btw, do you eat the Nutella right out of the jar with a spoon?

Me: Used to. Now I share a kitchen with the Others, so I can't. Wanted to label it, but my dad said that would be rude. ~ Julie Buxbaum

He wants to see, he wants to know, only to see and know. I'm aware that it is this mentality, this curiosity, which is responsible for the hydrogen bomb and the imminent demise of civilization and that we would all be better off if we were still at the stone-worshipping stage. Though surely it is not this affable inquisitiveness that should be blamed. ~ Margaret Atwood

Nor did he care about his childhood, for certainly I never heard him speak of it. I once questioned him about his early days and he would not answer. 'What is the egg to the eagle?' he asked me… ~ Bernard Cornwell

Chocolate makes everything better, in the end," he announced, and Thayer fully agreed.
Thayer gave him a smile of gratitude and watched Castel lift his spoon from the saucer. He dipped it, gracefully, into his coffee and gave it a light stir.
"Too many people rush to stir such delicate flavours. Take too long and they will clog together to become a lump of bitterness in your coffee. But take your time and be gentle with them," Castel explained, quietly, "and they will create a symphony of flavours, to melt in your mouth," he said, leaning down, just until his nose was over his cup, to take a long inhale. He smiled and straightened, extracting the spoon to place it back on his saucer. "Now try it."
Thayer took a sip and almost felt his toes curl at the luxurious taste.

~ Cinnamon Kiss ~ Elaine White

Repealing drug laws would remove the risks involved with producing and distributing drugs, bringing 'street prices' crashing down (it's estimated that a 'spoon' of heroin would cost about a quarter in the free market), thereby eradicating any incentive that criminals might have to compete with legitimate businesses, and greatly reducing if not eliminating altogether any economic reason to ' push ' drugs on children. ~ L. Neil Smith

Honey, have you seen my measuring tape?"
"I think it's in that drawer in the kitchen with the scissors, matches, bobby pins, Scotch tape, nail clippers, barbecue tongs, garlic press, extra buttons, old birthday cards, soy sauce packets thick rubber bands, stack of Christmas napkins, stained take-out menus, old cell-phone chargers, instruction booklet for the VCR, some assorted nickels, an incomplete deck of cards, extra chain links for a watch, a half-finished pack of cough drops, a Scrabble piece I found while vacuuming, dead batteries we aren't fully sure are dead yet, a couple screws in a tiny plastic bag left over from the bookshelf, that lock with the forgotten combination, a square of carefully folded aluminum foil, and expired pack of gum, a key to our old house, a toaster warranty card, phone numbers for unknown people, used birthday candles, novelty bottle openers, a barbecue lighter, and that one tiny little spoon."
"Thanks, honey."
AWESOME! ~ Neil Pasricha

We are not the ones driving the boat of our behavior, at least not nearly as much as we believe. Who we are runs well below the surface of our conscious access, and the details reach back in time before our birth, when the meeting of a sperm and egg granted us with certain attributes and not others. Who we can be begins with our molecular blueprints - a series of alien codes penned in invisibly small strings of acids - well before we have anything to do with it. We are a product of our inaccessible, microscopic history. ~ David Eagleman

You can break my heart. You can scoop it right out from inside of my chest with a dull, rusty spoon and, even then, I wouldn't be able to stop wanting you. ~ Jessie Lane

Just as there are physical monsters, can there not be mental or psychic monsters born? The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?
Monsters are variations from the accepted normal to a greater or a less degree. As a child may be born without an arm, so one may be born without kindness or the potential of conscience. A man who loses his arms in an accident has a great struggle to adjust himself to the lack, but one born without arms suffers only from people who find him strange. Having never had arms, he cannot miss them. To a monster the norm must seem monstrous, since everyone is normal to himself. To the inner monster it must be even more obscure, since he has no visible thing to compare with others. To a criminal, honesty is foolish. You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous. ~ John Steinbeck

That must have been just about the minute he found the entrance and started up the driveway, hurrying in the rain, because I had only a minute or two left before I saw him. I might have used that minute or two for so many things: I might have warned Constance, somehow, or I might have thought of a new, safer, magic word, or I might have pushed the table across the kitchen doorway; as it happened, I played with my spoon, and looked at Jonas, and when Constance shivered I said, 'I'll get your sweater for you. ~ Shirley Jackson

Today I ate my manuscript with the very spoon I used to write it with. My book was called "Chicken Noodle Soup for the Stomach."
I wrote it with alphabet soup, and then edited it with a can of chicken noodle soup. ~ Jarod Kintz

No, Your Grace. At the end a dragon hatches from an egg and devours all of the lions. ~ George R R Martin

I wondered about her chicken-and-egg relationship with Dad. Which came first? Her helplessness or his controlling? ~ Justina Chen

Don't give life to regrets and live on ifs and only, when you can no more unscramble an egg than change the past. ~ Nadia Janice Brown

You ask me,' a thoughtful Crumpet had once said in the smoking-room of the Drones Club, 'why it is that at the mention of his Uncle Fred's name Pongo Twistleton blenches to the core and calls for a couple of quick ones. I will tell you. It is because this uncle is pure dynamite. Every time he is in Pongo's midst, with the sap running strongly in his veins, he subjects the unfortunate young egg to some soul-testing experience, luring him out into the open and there, right in the public eye, proceeding to step high, wide and plentiful. For though well stricken in years the old blister becomes on these occasions as young as he feels, which seems to be about twenty-two. I don't know if you happen to know what the word "excesses" means, but those are what he invariably commits, when on the loose. Get Pongo to tell you some time about that day they had together at the dog races. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

I looked over at Jason. "Want some?"
He grinned. "Sure."
I pulled some off, held it out to him. He opened his mouth slightly, a challenge in his eyes. I don't know why I'd thought he'd take it from me.
Finally, he said, "I don't want to get my fingers sticky."
Oh, right. I got really warm, but I pushed the cotton candy into his mouth--and couldn't help thinking about a bride shoving the cake into the groom's mouth.
Jason's lips barely touched my fingers as his mouth closed, and I pulled back, but I got that much hotter, had felt his breath skim across my knuckles. It was so intimate, so personal, like something you'd do with someone you had a serious crush on. Much more intimate than spooning him ice cream. With ice cream, there was the distance of the spoon, not to mention that it was cold.
"I haven't had cotton candy in forever," he said. "I'd forgotten how…sugary it is."
"It's pure sugar."
"I wonder who invented it."
"I think it was a dentist."
He laughed, a laugh that revealed his perfect smile, his perfect teeth. "I'll bet you're right. ~ Rachel Hawthorne

My sister gave me a big bucket of Cool Whip. Isn't that awesome? For two weeks I basically watched Emergency! and ate cool whip with a spoon. ~ Steve Zahn

Life is half delicious yogurt, half crap, and your job is to keep the plastic spoon in the yogurt. ~ Scott Adams

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

My heart leaped with excitement. Odin was sending me to fight the jotuns in Jotunheim! I jumped up and summoned my spear of light. It blazed with anticipation. "I won't let you down, sir! I'll take care of those giants and their wretched sorcery!"
"Ah. No." Odin handed me a Valkyrie Vision body cam. "I need you to take a new photo of the egg. So I can see if it is beginning to hatch."
My spear dimmed. "Oh."
He raised an eyebrow. "It's an important job. Likely fraught with danger."
"Oh, sure," I agreed. "Snapping a pic of an egg in a nest would be . . . obviously. I'll be on my way, then. ~ Rick Riordan

The cold bowl felt good. She'd been huddled up and crying for so long she was almost feverish. Paige took a spoonful, turned it into her mouth with the metal spoon against its roof so her tongue could capture every single drop of rich chocolate as it melted away. Good flavors and good feelings followed. She closed her eyes. Ah, comfort food. It really did its job. Paige spooned up another bite, slow and deliberate, making it last. ~ Lynette Endicott

As an editor, you develop a B.S. meter - an internal warning system that signals caution about journalism that doesn't feel trustworthy. Sometimes it's a quote or incident that's too perfect - a feeling I always had when reading stories by Stephen Glass in the New Republic. Sometimes it's too many errors of fact, the overuse of anonymous sources, or signs that a reporter hasn't dealt fairly with people or evidence. And sometimes it's a combination of flaws that produces a ring of falsity, the whiff of a bad egg. There's no journalist who sets off my bullshit alarm like Ron Suskind. ~ Jacob Weisberg

I want you to know that life will try to crack you like an egg and your silence will eventually break. Someday you will spill some of those painful secrets and taste a modicum of much-needed freedom. You will lose a great deal as a result but the gains will outweigh every loss. You will love and be loved by a beautiful man in a place where your mutual passion won't be a marker of shame but pride. You will be awkward and alone and alien for a long time but you will transform these qualities, which is to say yourself, into a work of art. You will wear your awkwardness, your aloneness and your alienness in your hair like gold thread. You will adorn your wonkiness on your wrist like a charm bracelet studded with stars. ~ Diriye Osman

The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or a malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul? ~ John Steinbeck

I'm so fucking tired of black women always being described by their skin tones! Honey-colored this! Dark-chocolate that! My paternal grandmother was mocha-tinged, café-au-lait, graham-fucking-cracker brown! How come they never describe the white characters in relation to foodstuffs and hot liquids? Why aren't there any yogurt-colored, egg-shell-toned, string-cheese-skinned, low-fat-milk white protagonists in these racist, no-third-act-having books? That's why black literature sucks! ~ Paul Beatty

Gloria put a bowl of stew in Peter's hands. "Eat," she said.

Peter raised the spoon to his lips. He chewed. He swallowed.

It had been a long time since he had eaten anything besides tiny fish and old bread.

And so when Peter had his first bite of stew, it overwhelmed him. The warmth of it, the richness of it, knocked him backward; it was as if a gentle hand had pushed him when he was not expecting it. Everything he had lost came flooding back: the garden, his father, his mother, his sister, the promises that he had made and could not keep.

"What's this?" said Gloria Matienne. "The boy is crying."

"Shhh," said Leo. He put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Shhh. Don't worry, Peter. Everything will be good. All will be well. We will do together whatever it is that needs to be done. But for now, you must eat."

Peter nodded. He raised his spoon. Again he chewed and swallowed, and again he was overcome. He could not help it. He could not stop the tears; they flowed down his cheeks and into the bowl. "It is a very good stew, Madam Matienne. he managed to say. "Truly, it is an excellent stew. ~ Kate DiCamillo

He put the fork, knife, and spoon back in his pocket and tucked the flower behind his ear, then walked to the door, reaching it right before that butler did. He gave the man a glare - it was only a matter of time before he cracked and tried to kill them all - then pulled open the door.
( ... )
"Nice flower," the kandra said. "Can I have your skeleton when you're dead?"
"My ... " Wayne felt at his head.
"You're a Bloodmaker, correct? Can heal yourself? Bloodmaker bones tend to be particularly interesting, as your time spent weak and sickly creates oddities in your joints and bones that can be quite distinctive. I'd love to have your skeleton. If you don't mind."
Taken aback by this request, Wayne stopped in place. Then he ran past him, pushing into the room where Wax and Steris were talking. "Wax," he complained, pointing, "the immortal bloke is being creepy again. ~ Brandon Sanderson

There is not a moral to every story in animal behavior. Sometimes a snake is just a snake, and sometimes snake sex is only about sex in snakes, or sex in egg-laying reptiles. Although a biologist's job in part is to interpret what organisms do in a broader context, that context does not, and should not, need to include a lesson for human beings. This is true regardless of whether the lesson is something we would like to teach, which means that using animals as vehicles for nonsexist thinking is just as out of bounds as using them to keep women barefoot and pregnant. ~ Marlene Zuk

The sword was called Kaledvoulc'h, which means hard lightning, though Igraine prefers to call it Excaliber, and I shall call it so as well because Arthur never cared what name his longsword carried. Nor, did he care about his childhood, for certainly I never heard him speak of it. I once questioned him about his early days and he would not answer. "What is the egg to the eagle?" he asked me, then said that he had been born, he had lived, and he had become a soldier, and that was all I needed to know. ~ Bernard Cornwell

Presently, some sort of fish was served to me on a plate with a small but noticeable trace of coagulated catsup along the border. Mme. Yoshoto asked me, in English
and her accent was unexpectedly charming
if I would prefer an egg, but I said, "Non, non, madame
merci!" I said I never ate eggs. M. Yoshoto leaned his newspaper against my water glass, and the three of us ate in silence; that is, they ate and I systematically swallowed in silence. ~ J.D. Salinger

Break out to go out:

The birds dare to break the egg shell
It does so in order to get out of that Hell
When it finally succeeds, it'll then fly
To its comfort zone it'll say bye
Are you being confined in a small space
How long will you remain at that place?
Before you can explore more territories,
Break away from the former glories.
Yesterday's excellence is today's average
You must strive to be better age after age
Never accept the available mediocrity
As the only preferable opportunity
Decide to grow from below to hero
And make it a point to vacate level zero
Reach out and arise with power
God's blessings on you, will shower
Agree to grow, never attempt to be slow
Be not afraid. Never doubt. You'll flow
The grace of God will be your guide
Taking you along, side by side. ~ Israelmore Ayivor

With the edge of my spoon I shave layers off a swirling cake-batter-flavored peak, cause a chocolate-chip avalanche, and imagine the poor people at the melted base of Mount Yogurt screaming in terror at the wrath of their god.

She is displeased. ~ Lamar Giles

During the period in question, the changes in the empty space in
the womb can only be identified by an anatomical or gynecological
examination. Yet these changes, only recently identified by scientists,
are miraculously indicated in Surat ar-Ra'd:
Allah knows what every female bears and
every shrinking of the womb and every
swelling. Everything has its measure with
Him. (Qur'an, 13:8)
At the beginning of the menstrual
period, the mucous on the walls of the
womb (the endometrium layer) is 0.5
mm (0.02 inch) thick. Under the effect
of hormones secreted by the egg, this
layer grows and reaches a thickness of
5-6 mm (0.2 inch). This layer is then
discarded in the absence of fertilisation. As
we see from the above verse, this monthly
increase and reduction in the walls of the
womb is indicated in the Qur'an. ~ Harun Yahya