Knead Quotes

Is bread the better for kneading? so is the heart. Knead it then by spiritual exercises; or God must knead it by afflictions. ~ Augustus William Hare

A vinal shine turns over shades of cerulean and jasper from her expressive lips, revealing a jewel-like surface beneath a light that remains colorfast in a kiss composed of infinite grace. Being in a state of rest, Nadia still makes me the center of attention, dovetailing in an erotic entwinement that impels me to knead her coiling flex. Her resplendent fullness macerated into my bosom now grants me a restful anodyne, enabling the allay of my inner soul. ~ Luccini Shurod

Your tummy, soft as
warm dough. I knead and knead, then
bake it with a nap. ~ Lee Wardlaw

I bake bread nearly every day; I use Jim Lahey's no-knead method and leave it to rise overnight. ~ Ruth Reichl

Rigor mortis was caused by a natural build-up of calcium in the muscles; living bodies used that calcium for various things, but in dead bodies it just built up and built up until the muscles grew rigid. In a day or so she'd be loose again from decay, but for now we had to knead the calcium out by hand, stroking and pressing and rubbing the flesh until it was soft and pliable. ~ Dan Wells

You can't hurry love, and you can't rush puff pastry, either. You can knead too much, and you can be too needy. Always, warmth is what brings pastry to rise. Chemistry creates something amazing; coupled with care and heat, it works some kind of magic to create this satisfying, welcoming, and nourishing thing that is the base of life. ~ Kathleen Flinn

I cream my dream! I knead my realm and scream my dream...trimming my realm. I am Light-Blue, all the while for colors I code. In Light-Blue, my dream I cream, making it a higher level on which I life my dreams to be realized. that dream realized is that realm internalized. The cream actualized has the aim immortalized. The tallest building in the world is still a dream; cream your dream and be over the top. ~ Anyaele Sam Chiyson

I was making pie.

I didn't usually make pie, but I was waiting for the bread to rise so I could knead it again. I'd woken up with a thirst for violence. Cutting the butter into the flour for pie crust was almost as good as kneading bread. ~ Penny Reid

Second - I'd take much better care of myself.

There were simple things I could do. I could start with my poor feet. These little two feet carried me each day for miles and miles, steady and flexed, tired and aching from constant daily pounding, bruised scratched and sometimes rubbed red-raw, my weight pressing and pressing them. I decided now that each night in my tent I'd massage them. I would knead them with lotion because they always ached, and at the end of thirty-mile days they burned - and it would be luxurious - something I could have done the entire way because I had been carrying sun lotion but had never taken the ten sacred minutes to do for myself. ~ Aspen Matis

Here take back the stuff that I am, nature, knead it back into the dough of being, make of me a bush, a cloud, whatever you will, even a man, only no longer make me me. ~ Georg C. Lichtenberg

Hélène Lagonelle's body is heavy, innocent still, her skin's as soft as that of certain fruits, you almost can't grasp her, she's almost illusory, it's too much. She makes you want to kill her, she conjures up a marvelous dream of putting her to death with your own hands. Those flour-white shapes, she bears them unknowingly, and offers them for hands to knead, for lips to eat, without holding them back, without any knowledge of them and without any knowledge of their fabulous power. I'd like to eat Hélène Lagonelle's breasts as he eats mine in the room in the Chinese town where I go every night to increase my knowledge of God. I'd like to devour and be devoured by those flour-white breasts of hers.
I am worn out with desire for Hélène Lagonelle.
I am worn out with desire.
I want to take Hélène Lagonelle with me to where every evening, my eyes shut, I have imparted to me the pleasure that makes you cry out. I'd like to give Hélène Lagonelle to the man who does that to me, so he may do it in turn to her. I want it to happen in my presence, I want her to do it as I wish, I want her to give herself where I give myself. It's via Hélène Lagonelle's body, through it, that the ultimate pleasure would pass from him to me.
A pleasure unto death. ~ Marguerite Duras

I'm a dog. I don't have a name yet.
(a dazed Namiki)
This guy is "Namikisan". That's what Kanade calls him, anyway.
What...have we here? SNIFF. SNIFF.
...
CHOMP. CHOMP.
'Hey! Did you just eat something off the ground?! Like you didn't stuff your belly at home.' (-Namiki)
Hmm? My instinct told me it was okay! And it's almost always right! Like that one time... That one time...

'I'm sure some good samaritan'll pick him up.' (-man)
'Yeah, who'll take him to the dog pound!' (-woman)
'Well, there's nothing we can do about it now...' (-man)
Hmm?
...
RUSTLE. RUSTLE.
(Namiki pauses, looks down at him)
PAT.
KNEAD. KNEAD. KNEAD.
'Heh heh.' (-Namiki)
Not so rough!
KNEAD. KNEAD.
Oh, yeah? Try this on for size! NIP. NIP.
'Ha ha ha! Ha... ..... ...Oh. I see. You're...' (-Namiki)
? WAG. WAG.
'...gonna die.' (-Namiki)
That one time...my animal instinct told me...
(Namiki looks at him with a pained expression)
"He's the one!"
That's why, even when he walked away at first, even when it rained, I knew it would be okay.
(Namiki appears in the rain and reaches down for him, smiling)
My instinct was right on target.

[at the Animal Hospital]
'He probably ate something off the ground.' (-vet.)
GROAN. GROAN.
'I knew it! Can't you even tell when something's safe to eat or not?! I thought dogs were supposed to have instincts fo ~ Sakura Tsukuba

You need me," said Xiaohui breathlessly, pulling November over her, sliding hands under her belt to claw and knead. "You need me."
"Don't you mean 'I need you'?" whispered November in the girl's ear.
"No," she sighed, arching her back, tipping her chin up, making herself easy to kiss, easy to fall into, easy to devour. "You'll see. You'll see. ~ Catherynne M Valente

And then there are the cravings.. Oh, la! A woman may crave to be near water, or be belly down, her face in the earth, smelling the wild smell. She might have to drive into the wind. She may have to plant something, pull things out of the ground or put them into the ground. She may have to knead and bake, rapt in dough up to her elbows.
She may have to trek into the hills, leaping from rock to rock trying out her voice against the mountain. She may need hours of starry nights where the stars are like face powder spilt on a black marble floor. She may feel she will die if she doesn't dance naked in a thunderstorm, sit in perfect silence, return home ink-stained, paint-stained, tear-stained, moon-stained. ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

If you run out of dough, all you knead is love. ~ Khang Kijarro Nguyen

Add Fat Don't be afraid of fat. Add extra butter to anything. Drizzle olive oil over pasta or salads or even meat just prior to serving (don't heat it if possible). Olive oil mixed with herbs is also great for dipping bread into. (Try the soaked no-knead bread in this book.) Pan-fry meat and fish with some coconut oil, beef tallow, or lard. Make "candy" from coconut oil, honey, shredded coconut, and chocolate (if you like). ~ Anonymous

Dante climbed back on top of him, sitting on Griff's round butt to knead his shoulders. "I just wanna try. It'll be fine. No big deal. Maybe a massage first? Two dudes. That'd be okay right?"
What was he asking?
"And then, I want you" -Dante leaned forward, pressing his chest against Griff's muscular back, lips against his ear -"to fucking turn yourself loose on me. ~ Damon Suede

Sooner of later, God will again
bear out that semblance He makes of me each day.
He'll knead, fold, punch, pull, mark, smudge,
erase, and tear away.

Sometimes it feels like love.
And makes me tremble.
Sometimes it hurts like death.
And makes me shake. ~ Li-Young Lee

Thirty spokes share one hub in non-being lies the use of the cart knead clay to make vessels in non-being lies the use of the vessel cut out doors and windows to make a house
therefore form being comes what is usable and from non-being comes what is essential. ~ Lao-Tzu

Although a food processor is not an absolutely essential piece of equipment, because you can certainly chop, grate, slice, knead and mix everything by hand, it does do all these things very quickly and efficiently and saves you time and energy. ~ Delia Smith

One naturally asks, what was the use of this great engine set at work ages ago to grind, furrow, and knead over, as it were, the surface of the earth? We have our answer in the fertile soil which spreads over the temperate regions of the globe. The glacier was God's great plough. ~ Louis Agassiz

Lost Wax"

My love gives me some wax,
so for once instead of words
I work at something real;
I knead until I see emerge
a person, a protagonist;
but I must overwork my wax,
it loses it's resiliency,
comes apart in crumbs.

I take another block;
this work, I think, will be a self;
I can feel it forming, brow
and brain; perhaps it will be me,
perhaps, if I can create myself,
I'll be able to amend myself;
my wax, though, freezes
this time, fissures, splits.

Words or wax, no end
to our self-shaping, our forlorn
awareness at the end of which
is only more awareness.
Was ever truth so malleable?
Arid, inadhesive bits of matter.
What might heal you? Love.
What might make you whole? Love. My love. ~ C. K. Williams

Do glassmakers not have the ability to knead their own agates, marbles and rock crystals? ~ Emile Galle

Mix and knead together all the state business as you do for your sausages. To win the people, always cook them some savory that pleases them. ~ Aristophanes

Jamie came back to the apartment one night to find her spreading a viscous fluid onto a canvas. It was threaded wtih blood. "Good God," he said. "What the hell is that?"
Pia didn't bother to look up but continued to knead the clear slime across the canvas. "It's my new piece."
"But what is it?" He kept pointing. He'd never seen something so disgusting in his life. And her hands were completely in it.
"It's Jodie's placenta. She gave it to me. I'm going to tack it up and let it dry on this canvas. Then I'm gonna glue-gun pictures of dead fetuses onto Lucite and make them the centerpeice."
"Uh huh."
She raised her sticky hands to him. "It's about women, you know? The way that the world opresses them, all right? And it's about babies, and . . . I don't know . . . I just got the placenta today."
"Wow, that's wow . . . that's . . ." No words for this. He scratched his chin as she spread her hands in a concentric motion across the canvas. "So, do you really think anyone's gonna want to put that up on their wall when it's done?" he asked.
She scowled, displeased. ~ K. Stephens