Herrlicher Mustard Quotes

Your flavor in my mind swings back and forth between sweeter than any wine and as bitter as mustard greens. ~ Aaron Weiss

But truth is like the coyote. No matter how much society is bent on its destruction, it somehow always manages to survive, usually sneaking around the edges of civilization to avoid detection. ~ Kirk Mustard

Okay, the kingdom is like a monkey." Joshua was hoarse and his voice was breaking. "How?" "A Jewish monkey, right?" "Is it like a monkey eating a mustard seed?" I stood up and went to Joshua and put my arm around his shoulder. "Josh, take a break." I led him down the beach toward the village. He shook his head. "Those are the dumbest sons of bitches on earth." "They've become like little children, as you told them to." "Stupid little children," Joshua said. ~ Christopher Moore

All Carolina folk are crazy for mayonnaise, mayonnaise is as ambrosia to them, the food of their tarheeled gods. Mayonnaise comforts them, causes the vowels to slide more musically along their slow tongues, appeasing their grease-conditioned taste buds while transporting those buds to a place higher than lard could ever hope to fly. Yellow as summer sunlight, soft as young thighs, smooth as a Baptist preacher's rant, falsely innocent as a magician's handkerchief, mayonnaise will cloak a lettuce leaf, some shreds of cabbage, a few hunks of cold potato in the simplest splendor, restyling their dull character, making them lively and attractive again, granting them the capacity to delight the gullet if not the heart. Fried oysters, leftover roast, peanut butter: rare are the rations that fail to become instantly more scintillating from contact with this inanimate seductress, this goopy glory-monger, this alchemist in a jar.
The mystery of mayonnaise-and others besides Dickie Goldwire have surely puzzled over this_is how egg yolks, vegetable oil, vinegar (wine's angry brother), salt, sugar (earth's primal grain-energy), lemon juice, water, and, naturally, a pinch of the ol' calcium disodium EDTA could be combined in such a way as to produce a condiment so versatile, satisfying, and outright majestic that mustard, ketchup, and their ilk must bow down before it (though, a at two bucks a jar, mayonnaise certainly doesn't put on airs)or else slink away in disgrace. Who but the ~ Tom Robbins

Won't cha ... picture life as my wife, just think:
Full length mink, fat X and O links,
Bracelets to match, conversation was all that,
Showed you the safe combinations and all that.
Guess you could say you's the one I trusted ...
Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard? ~ The Notorious B.I.G.

Truth or Dare," he says. He always knows the exact right thing to say.

"Dare."

"Coward. Okay, I dare you to eat the entire jar of hot mustard I have in my fridge."

"I was hoping for a sexy dare."

"I'll get you a spoon."

"Truth. ~ Sally Thorne

Mr. Poe meant well, but a jar of mustard probably also means well and would do a better job of keeping the Baudelaires out of danger. ~ Lemony Snicket

Paint in blue and black ... sometimes gray - the colors of night - occasionally I surprise you with a mustard yellow, but then, I am a poet ... ~ John Geddes

TV news is like kryptonite to children. The two major shifts in taste for children to adulthood are news and mustard. Kids hate news and mustard. Well, mustard even has the word 'turd' in it. Maybe I should threaten my kids that if they don't go to bed, I will force them to watch an hour-long newscast about mustard. ~ Jim Gaffigan

How a sip of water from a brass cup or a few drops from a brass spoon of the size of finger or how can one keep rose petals and marigold spreads between the pages of one's books for years or how the fresh shoot of barley could be put behind one's ears or how a dot of vermilion on the forehead or how fasting for a day or how praying or chanting or lightening an incense stick or how lighting a cotton wick dipped in mustard oil or how being blessed by priests and saints or how sitting in a lotus posture or how reading the holy books could kindle in one that thing called faith ~ Aporva Kala

HIGH-ALKALINE FOODS

Vegetables
Beets, Broccoli, Cauliflower, Celery, Cucumbers, Kale, Lettuce, Mushrooms, Onions, Peas, Peppers, Pumpkin, Spinach, Sprouts, Wheatgrass

Fruits
Apples, Apricots, Avocados, Bananas, Blueberries, Cantaloupe, Cherries (sour), Grapes, Melon, Lemon, Oranges, Peaches, Pears, Pineapple, Raspberries, Strawberries, Watermelon

Protein
Almonds, Chestnuts, Whey Protein Powder, Tofu

Spices
Cinnamon, Curry, Ginger, Mustard, Sea Salt ~ Derek Hough

Mendham was a cadaverous man with a magnificent beard. He looked,indeed, as if he had run to beard as a mustard plant runs to seed. But when he spoke you found he had a voice as well. ~ H.G.Wells

I Will Not Tease Rebecca Grimes

I have to write one hundred times:
"I will not tease Rebecca Grimes."
Okay, that's one. I'm far from done.
(This isn't gonna be much fun.)
"I will not tease Rebecca Grimes."
That's two. I'm paying for my crimes.
It's all because I pulled her hair
And put spaghetti on her chair.

Because I gave her goofy looks
And squirted mustard on her books,
I have to write one hundred times:
"I will not tease Rebecca Grimes."

That's three. Whoopee. It's going slow.
Just ninety-seven more to go.
"I will not tease" (I'm keeping score.)
"Rebecca Grimes." (Now that makes four.)

I'm soaked with sweat. My shirt is damp.
I think I'm getting writer's cramp.
"I will not, will not, will not tease
Rebecca Grimes!" Can I stop, please?

The teacher frowns, and that means no.
I still have sixty-six to go.
"I will-will-will not-not-not-not
Tease-tease-tease-tease..." It's getting hot.

"I will not tease Rebecca Grimes."
That's ninety-nine. The school bell chimes.
Just one more line and I'll be through.
Rebecca Grimes, this one's for you!
My final line will rhyme with "Grimes":
"I will not tease Rebecca...Slimes!"
Rebecca Slimes! Ha ha! That's great!
I'd better hide it. Oops! Too late!

The teacher sees what I wrote down.
She takes my paper with a frown.
I now mus ~ Dave Crawley

I found my flashlight where I'd dropped it on the bricks, but the bulb had broken. Lockwood's was gone, and George's seemed dimmer than before.
'Save it,' Lockwood said. He brought out candles and distributed them between us; when lit, their flames were mustard-yellow, tall, and strong. 'They'll be a good indicator of psychic build-up, too,' he said. 'Keep your eye on them.'
'Shame we can't use caged cats, like Tom Rotwell did,' George remarked. 'They're the most sensitive indicator of all, apparently - *if* you can stand the yowling. ~ Jonathan Stroud

Not hungry, thanks, Mum." "Have just a sandwich." "No, thanks." "I can make you a nice ham sandwich. Ham and mustard." "No, really." "Cheese? There's some nice cheddar." "Honestly, no." "It's no trouble." "Oh, for goodness' sake! Okay! I give in! I'll have a bloody sandwich!" "You don't have to have one," Mary said, "if you don't want one. ~ Graham Joyce

Our intelligence officials estimate that Saddam Hussein had the materials to produce as much as 500 tons of sarin, mustard and VX nerve agent. ~ George W. Bush

The Indian peasant is the world's champion shitter. Stacks of chappaties and mounds of mustard leaf-mash down the hatch twice a day; stacks of shit a.m. and p.m. ~ Khushwant Singh

There's a reason diehard fans get to the ballpark hours before game time. It's not for better parking. It's not for extra time to find our seats. It's not so we'll have time to down an extra hot dog, heavy on the mustard, prior to the first pitch. It's called BP. ~ Tucker Elliot

I preached at First Congregational Church of Battle Creek, Michigan, in June 2017, and they shared this version of "Come Thou Fount" with me. I share it with you here as a call to action and as an invitation to the politics of resilience in an age of the tyranny of the now:

Come thou fount of every blessing, give me courage to resist.
Oh dear God they came and killed you, but at death you shook your fist.
Make me clever like the steward, make me angry like the poor,
teach me to unbind the captive, teach me to unbar the door.

O dear God, I have such power, that I never toiled to earn.
Help me wield it for liberation, may the fires of your justice burn.
Guide me God to read you truly, may your truth be named and heard,
When I read the holy scripture, help me God to hear your Word.

Moving Wind, your seed of justice, grows into a mustard tree -
it is so big, and obnoxious, is there room there, God, for me?
O my Jesus, come like leaven, infiltrate our hearts and minds
as we struggle to be human, help us to decolonize.

When the powers stand against us, when we join hands with the meek,
help us God against their fury; wield the weapons of the weak.
As we stand up to oppression, as we speak the truth to power -
Holy One, you walk beside us: we need you every hour.

While I struggle with my hatred, with my fear and bigotry:
help me Lord to join your struggle, help m ~ Robyn Henderson-Espinoza

Sulphuric acid was added to vinegar for extra sharpness, chalk to milk, turpentine to gin. Arsenite of copper was used to make vegetables greener or to make jellies glisten. Lead chromate gave bakery products a golden glow and brought radiance to mustard. Lead acetate was added to drinks as a sweetener, and red lead somehow made Gloucester cheese lovelier to behold, if not safer to eat. There was hardly a foodstuff, it seems, that couldn't be improved or made more economical to the retailer through a little deceptive manipulation. ~ Bill Bryson

Memories are like that, like mustard seeds, tiny at first, but eventually the largest tree in all of the garden. ~ Sarah Domet

Tammy dips her pickles in mustard and red dirt and everyone knows why," she whispered as if someone might overhear. ~ Valenciya Lyons

Most CMSes are pretty bad even at doing page layout, typically providing drag-and-drop tools that don't cut the mustard. And even then, you end up needing to have someone who understands HTML and CSS to fine-tune the CMS templates. They tend to be terrible platforms on which to build custom code. ~ Sam Newman

Any human love a man gets he can make fill his life. It's like the grain of mustard-seed. ~ William John Locke

I went to Luc's without much enthusiasm and even with some trepidation: I was going to have to chat, be friendly and project an image of myself to them. I would have preferred to have lunch on my own, twirl a jar of mustard round between my fingers, and be vague, vague, completely vague . . . ~ Francoise Sagan

Faith doesn't have to be much. Not any bigger than a mustard seed ... That small. Only that much faith you'll need in me, God says, because I am so big. I am the Great I Am. So have faith in me. ~ Patricia Raybon

Thinking about lunch. Smoked salmon with pedigreed lettuce and razor-sharp slices of onion that have been soaked in ice water, brushed with horseradish and mustard, served on French butter rolls baked in the hot ovens of Kinokuniya. A sandwich made in heaven ~ Haruki Murakami

No faith is required to do the possible; actually only a morsel of this atom-powered stuff is needed to do the impossible, for a piece as large as a mustard seed will do more than we have ever dreamed of. ~ Leonard Ravenhill

We often hesitate to follow our intuition out of fear. Most usually, we are afraid of the changes in our own life that our actions will bring. Intuitive guidance, however, is all about change. It is energetic data ripe with the potential to influence the rest of the world. To fear change but to crave intuitive clarity is like fearing the cold, dark night while pouring water on the fire that lights your cave. An insight the size of a mustard seed is powerful enough to bring down a mountain-sized illusion that may be holding our lives together. Truth strikes without mercy. We fear our intuitions because we fear the transformational power within our revelations. ~ Caroline Myss

It [the charcuterie] was almost on the corner of the Rue Pirouette and was a joy to behold. It was bright and inviting, with touches of brilliant colour standing out amidst white marble. The signboard, on which the name QUENU-GRADELLE glittered in fat gilt letter encircled by leaves and branches painted on a soft-hued background, was protected by a sheet of glass. On the two side panels of the shop front, similarly painted and under glass, were chubby little Cupids playing in the midst of boars' heads, pork chops, and strings of sausages; and these still lifes, adorned with scrolls and rosettes, had been designed in so pretty and tender a style that the raw meat lying there assumed the reddish tint of raspberry jam. Within this delightful frame, the window display was arranged. It was set out on a bed of fine shavings of blue paper; a few cleverly positioned fern leaves transformed some of the plates into bouquets of flowers fringed with foliage. There were vast quantities of rich, succulent things, things that melted in the mouth. Down below, quite close to the window, jars of rillettes were interspersed with pots of mustard. Above these were some boned hams, nicely rounded, golden with breadcrumbs, and adorned at the knuckles with green rosettes. Then came the larger dishes--stuffed Strasbourg tongues, with their red, varnished look, the colour of blood next to the pallor of the sausages and pigs' trotters; strings of black pudding coiled like harmless snakes; andouilles pi ~ Emile Zola

Sara, we have to go, she whispers, even though my dad isn't there to hear her. She's not crying. She's calm. Matter-of-fact. As if she's asking me whether I want mayo or mustard on my sandwich. Except in secret. ~ Tracy Bilen