Empty Plate Quotes

VIII

'Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.

'The sun burns on the half-mown hill,
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.

'My mother thinks us long away;
'Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she'll be alone.

'And here's a bloody hand to shake,
And oh, man, here's good-bye;
We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My blood hands and I.

'I wish you strength to bring you pride,
And a love to keep you clean,
And I wish you luck, come Lammastide,
At racing on the green.

'Long for me the rick will wait,
And long will wait the fold,
And long will stand the empty plate,
And dinner will be cold.'

IX

On moonlit heath and lonesome bank
The sheep beside me graze;
And yon the gallows used to clank
Fast by the four cross ways.

A careless shepherd once would keep
The flocks by moonlight there,
And high amongst the glimmering sheep
The dead man stood on air.

They hang us now in Shrewsbury jail:
The whistles blow forlorn.
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.

There sleeps in Shrewsbury jail to-night,
Or wakes, as may betide,
A better lad, ~ A.E. Housman

The no-kiss rule starts when we're home and I've found you a class,' Sky said smugly. 'Read the small print.'
Zed folded his arms and pushed back his empty plate. 'She won't last. ~ Joss Stirling

Reward is a happy customer - and an empty plate. ~ Jacques Torres

You can't know who you really are until you've tasted all the things life has to offer...otherwise you'll just be standing there with an empty plate and no stories to tell ~ Amber Mosby

We have to discard the past / and, as one builds / floor by floor, window by window, / and the building rises, / so do we keep shedding - first, broken tiles, / then proud doors ... and each new day / gleams / like an empty / plate. ~ Pablo Neruda

eat, baby.
eat.
chew.
please.
I know it hurts. I know it doesn't feel good.
please.
I know your hunger is different than mine.
I know it doesn't taste the same as mine.
imagine you could grow up all over again
and pinpoint the millisecond that you started
counting calories like casualties of war,
mourning each one like it had a family.
would you?
sometimes I wonder that.
sometimes I wonder if you would go back
and watch yourself reappear and disappear right in front of your own eyes.
and I love you so much.
I am going to hold your little hand through the night.
just please eat. just a little.
you wrote a poem once,
about a city of walking skeletons.
the teacher called home because you
told her you wished it could be like that
here.
let me tell you something about bones, baby.
they are not warm or soft.
the wind whistles through them like they are
holes in a tree.
and they break, too. they break right in half.
they bruise and splinter like wood.
are you hungry?
I know. I know how much you hate that question.
I will find another way to ask it, someday.
please.
the voices.
I know they are all yelling at you to stretch yourself thinner.
l hear them counting, always counting.
I wish I had been there when the world made you
snap yourself in half.
I would have told you that your body is not ~ Caitlyn Siehl

WILL PUSHED HIS EMPTY PLATE AWAY AND LEANED BACK IN HIS chair, feeling that delightfully uncomfortable sensation that comes when you eat just a little too much of something really delicious. Lady Pauline smiled fondly at the young man. "Would you like extras, Will? There's plenty left." He patted his stomach, surprised to find that it seemed to actually feel tighter than normal, as if it were straining at his clothes from the inside. "Thank you, no, Pauline," he said. "I've already had seconds." "You've already had fourths," Halt commented. Will frowned at him, then turned back to Pauline, smiling at her. At least she didn't make disparaging comments the way her husband did. ~ John Flanagan

For Archie was an expert in dividing the affairs of life into men's business and women's business. An empty cupboard and a full plate were the man's business, a full cupboard and an empty plate the concern of the woman. ~ Annie Proulx

The first thing that struck you about Claire's plate was its vast emptiness. Of course I'm well aware that, in the better restaurants, quality takes precedence over quantity, but there are voids and then there are voids. The void here, that part of the plate on which no food at all was present, had clearly been raised to a matter of principle.
It was as though the empty plate was challenging you to say something about it, to go to the open kitchen and demand an explanation. 'You wouldn't even dare!' the plate said, and laughed in your face. ~ Herman Koch

After Marcus had wiped her perspiring body with a cool, damp cloth, he dressed her in his discarded shirt, which held the scent of his skin. He brought her a plate containing a poached pear, and a glass of sweet wine, and even allowed her to feed him a few bites of the silky-soft fruit. When her appetite was sated, Lillian set aside the empty plate and spoon, and turned to snuggle against him. He rose on one elbow and looked down at her, his fingers playing idly in her hair.
"Are you sorry that I wouldn't let St. Vincent have you?"
She gave him a puzzled smile. "Why would you ask such a thing? Surely you're not having pangs of conscience."
Marcus shook his head. "I am merely wondering if you had any regrets."
Surprised and touched by his need for reassurance, Lillian toyed with the dark curls on his chest. "No," she said frankly. "He is attractive, and I do like him… but I didn't want him."
"You did consider marrying him, however."
"Well," she admitted, "it did cross my mind that I would like to be a duchess - but only to spite you."
A smile flashed across his face. He retaliated with a punishing nip at her breast, causing her to yelp. "I couldn't have borne it," he admitted, "seeing you married to anyone but me."
"I don't think Lord St. Vincent will have any difficulty finding another heiress to suit his purposes."
"Perhaps. But there aren't many women with fortunes comparable to yours… and none with your beauty."
~ Lisa Kleypas

I just thought I was empty and now I'm being filled ... and I just wanted to keep being filled. ~ Laura Hillenbrand

Get in some pasta or brown rice with your vegetables like a sweet potato and some meat. You need a little bit of everything on your plate to make sure your energy levels are right for the match. ~ Jozy Altidore

SHORE AND GROUND Keep walking, though there's no place to get to. Don't try to see through the distances. That's not for human beings. Move within, but don't move the way fear makes you move. Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. RUMI ~ Anne Lamott

Wow," I said as we came to a stop. "These aren't really tents. They're more like cabins. Or like a tent and a cabin had a baby. A 'tenbin.'"
It was a bad joke. A stupid one, and my heart wasn't even a little bit in it. Archer would've laughed at it anyway, I thought, and once again, pain slammed into my chest, nearly leaving me breathless.
Cal didn't say anything, so I just swung my arm out, gesturing to the tents. "Pick any of them. They're all empty."
Still not looking at me, Cal moved toward the tent directly in front of us, and pushed back the flap. It occurred to me that I probably should have just given him the lantern instead of following him inside, but by the time I'd had that thought, he was already in the tent.
I climbed the steps and ducked through the canvas doorway. "Wow," I said to his back. "Not exactly the digs we had at Thorne, huh? ~ Rachel Hawkins

Philosophy of science without history of science is empty; history of science without philosophy of science is blind. ~ Imre Lakatos

When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this?" He made a fist. "Why? Because a baby not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say the whole world is mine. But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned his lesson." "What lesson?" I asked. He stretched open his empty fingers. "We can take nothing with us. ~ Mitch Albom

Worrying is like a dominoes effect, that rolls from one day into the next, into a week, a month, a year;
never accomplishing anything but stress, until it hits that last tile, which drops unfulfilled to an empty ground. ~ Anthony Liccione

God happens only when you have moved out of the way and left yourself totally empty, spacious. It is a very strange phenomenon: The guest only comes inside the house when the host disappears. ~ Rajneesh

The greatness that would make us grave,
Is but an empty thing.
What more than mirth would mortals have?
The cheerful man's a king. ~ Isaac Bickerstaffe

Are we fallen angels who didn't want to believe that nothing is nothing and so were born to lose our loved ones and dear friends one by one and finally our own life, to see it proved? ... But cold morning would return, with clouds billowing out of Lightning Gorge like giant smoke, the lake below still cerulean neutral, and empty space the same as ever. O gnashing teeth of earth, where would it all lead to but to prove that the proving itself was nil ... ~ Jack Kerouac

Every morning I have been looking at CNN to see if there is any reason for hope . I see a few large and impressive peace protests here and there around the world, but mostly I see empty robot faces monotonously reciting the magic incantations, "We must support the President" and "We must support our troops", both of which mean the killing must continue. ~ Robert Anton Wilson

If you were handed power on a plate you'd be left fighting over a plate. ~ Tom Stoppard

But the pigs--seventy pounds of porcine weight that did not take kindly to weekly endoscopies--did not sprout any ulcers. And testing the theory on humans was ethically impossible: how could one justify infecting a human with a new, uncharacterized species of bacteria to prove that it caused gastritis and predisposed to cancer?
In July 1984, with his experiments stalled and his grant applications in jeopardy, Marshall performed the ultimate experiment: "On the morning of the experiment, I omitted my breakfast….Two hours later, Neil Noakes scraped a heavily inoculated 4 day culture plate of Helicobacter and dispersed the bacteria in alkaline peptone water (a kind of meat broth used to keep bacteria alive). I fasted until 10 am when Neil handed me a 200 ml beaker about one quarter full of the cloudy brown liquid. I drank it down in one gulp then fasted for the rest of the day. A few stomach gurgles occurred. Was it the bacteria or was I just hungry? ~ Siddhartha Mukherjee

It's genius, really: saturate the media with ideal bodies, convince women that they can only be happy if they look like those bodies, sell women products promising to give them those bodies, and when those products don't work, tell the women that it's their fault for not having enough willpower, and sell them more.
If women begin to achieve the current ideal body, change the ideal so that they'll need to keep buying products (that don't work) to attain the impossible. Rinse and repeat. They go home rolling in their billions and we're left with shattered self-esteem, empty bank accounts, wasted years, and useless products, and we still blame ourselves instead of seeing it for the manipulation that it is. And all along the whole thing rests on that one big lie, that your body needs to look a certain way in order for you to be happy. We bought it. We still buy it. ~ Megan Jayne Crabbe

Reading a novel after reading semiotic theory was like jogging empty-handed after jogging with hand weights. What exquisite guilt she felt, wickedly enjoying narrative! Madeleine felt safe with a nineteenth century novel. There were going to be people in it. Something was going to happen to them in a place resembling the world. Then too there were lots of weddings in Wharton and Austen. There were all kinds of irresistible gloomy men. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

I was talking about children that have not been properly house-trained. Left to their own impulses and indulged by doting or careless parents almost all children are yahoos. Loud, selfish, cruel, unaffectionate, jealous, perpetually striving for attention, empty-headed, for ever prating or if words fail them simply bawling, their voices grown huge from daily practice: the very worst company in the world. But what I dislike even more than the natural child is the affected child, the hulking oaf of seven or eight that skips heavily about with her hands dangling in front of her
a little squirrel or bunny-rabbit
and prattling away in a baby's voice. ~ Patrick O'Brian

I'd remind you of that restaurant around the corner except ... " His gaze flicked over the robe that dipped deep at her breasts and skimmed her thighs. "You'd have to get dressed."
Shelby smiled, a slow invitation, but when he took a step toward her, she dunked bread into the batter. "Get a plate."
He reached into the cupboard she indicated, then drew two plates out before he came to stand behind her. Leaning over, he brushed his lips below her ear, pleased with the quick tremor of response.
"The ones I burn," Shelby warned, "are all yours. ~ Nora Roberts

The face before him was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was smooth, with a black strip of cloth tied over its forehead, and yet it was deeply furrowed, like the sea, that can have tall waves but not a wrinkle on the surface. The eyes were like dark chasms and yet they were the eyes of a human being and not empty sockets. The skin was a greenish olive colour and looked as if it were made of bronze ... ~ Gustav Meyrink

Child. This ability to grieve - that is, to give up the illusion of his "happy" childhood, to feel and recognize the full extent of the hurt he has endured - can restore the depressive's vitality and creativity and free the grandiose person from the exertions of and dependence on his Sisyphean task. If a person is able, during this long process, to experience the reality that he was never loved as a child for what he was but was instead needed and exploited for his achievements, success, and good qualities - and that he sacrificed his childhood for this form of love - he will be very deeply shaken, but one day he will feel the desire to end these efforts. He will discover in himself a need to live according to his true self and no longer be forced to earn "love" that always leaves him empty-handed, since it is given to his false self - something he has begun to identify and relinquish. ~ Alice Miller

There are a lot of myths about my injuries. They say I have broken every bone in my body. Not true. But I have broken 35 bones. I had surgery 14 times to pin and plate. I shattered my pelvis. I forget all of the things that have broke. ~ Evel Knievel

Postmodernity is said to be a culture of fragmentary sensations, eclectic nostalgia, disposable simulacra, and promiscuous superficiality, in which the traditionally valued qualities of depth, coherence, meaning, originality, and authenticity are evacuated or dissolved amid the random swirl of empty signals. ~ Jean Baudrillard

Hmm." He grins, and leans forward onto his knees. He presses his hands to the metal plate, framing my head with his arms, and kisses me, slowly, on my mouth, under my jaw, right above my collarbone. ~ Veronica Roth

Having already funneled its students to their respective classrooms, the school's front hall was empty, its glass showcase in the same neglected spot outside the front office. ... She looked at it briefly, her eyes sweeping over the faces of students whose adult trajectories would lead them either to gloss over these moments or to spend their lives pining for their return. ~ Myla Goldberg

The truth is, I feel beyond sad. I feel empty. Numb. ~ Elizabeth Scott

Half full, half empty, what the hell difference does it make? If there's something in the damn glass, drink it. ~ Nora Roberts

I didn't want any flowers, I only wanted
to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free. ~ Sylvia Plath

When I go looking for glimpses of Him, when I seek to fill the empty places with more of Him who is beauty, my equilibrium recalibrates to find its center in the Judge who became grace to bestow grace and I can rightly read the scale, feel it inside, and know it's true: If you can really see - the weight of Glory always tips the scales for joy. ~ Ann Voskamp

Dream cars have no registration plate. ~ Lee Murray

I live alone, perhaps for no good reason, for the reason that I am an impossible creature, set apart by a temperament I have never learned to use as it could be used, thrown off by a word, a glance, a rainy day, or one drink too many. My need to be alone is balanced against my fear of what will happen when suddenly I enter the huge empty silence if I cannot find support there. I go up to Heaven and down to Hell in an hour, and keep alive only by imposing upon myself inexorable routines. I write too many letters and too few poems. ~ May Sarton

So you're the Pigeon, huh?"
"No," I snapped. "I have a name."
He seemed amused at the way I regarded him, which only served to make me angrier.
"Well? What is it?" he asked.
I took a bite of the last apple spear on my plate, ignoring him.
"Pigeon it is, then," he shrugged. ~ Jamie McGuire

Lord, You have told me who You are, You have in mercy revealed Yourself to me, I know You to be that blessed 'gift of God' which alone can save and satisfy my soul. The depth and compass of heavenly love are manifested in You, and You have shown me, not my need only, but the sufficiency of Your grace and power to meet it. I am an empty sinner, You are a full Christ! ~ Susannah Spurgeon

The windblast sent people to the ground. A thunderhead of smoke and ash came moving toward them. The light drained dead away, bright day gone. They ran and fell and tried to get up, men with toweled heads, a woman blinded by debris, a woman calling someone's name. The only light was vestigial now, the light of what comes after, carried in the residue of smashed matter, in the ash ruins of what was various and human, hovering in the air above.

He took one step and then the next, smoke blowing over him. He felt rubble underfoot and there was motion everywhere, people running, things flying past. He walked by the Easy Park sign, the Breakfast Special and Three Suits Cheap, and they went running past, losing shoes and money. He saw a woman with her hand in the air, like running to catch a bus.

He went past a line of fire trucks and they stood empty now, headlights flashing. He could not find himself in the things he saw and heard. Two men ran by with a stretcher, someone facedown, smoke seeping out of his hair and clothes. He watched them move into the stunned distance. That's where everything was, all around him, falling away, street signs, people, things he could not name.

Then he saw a shirt come down out of the sky. He walked and saw it fall, arms waving like nothing in this life. ~ Don DeLillo

Too much alleged 'fantasy' is just empty sugar, life with the crusts cut off. ~ Terry Pratchett