Koks Restaurant Quotes

He wasn't steaming anymore, but the incident on the ice bridge had really freaked Jason out. Leo hadn't seemed to realize that he had smoke coming out his ears and flames dancing through his hair. If Leo started spontaneously combusting every time he got excited, they were going to have a tough time taking him anywhere. Jason imagined trying to get food at a restaurant. I'll have a cheeseburger and - Ahhh! My friend's on fire! Get me a bucket! ~ Rick Riordan

He flapped his mouth some more, and then shook himself awake, came to a decision, and starting sneaking huge, theatrical looks around the restaurant, as a way of telling all the other lunchers that I Am Now Going To Give This Man An Important Piece of Paper. ~ Hugh Laurie

You can take me to the shittiest restaurant or bar and I'll seriously be happy if I can sit at a booth. I don't even have to drink. Sitting is one of life's most underrated pleasures. ~ Karina Halle

Have you ever noticed how a man orders food at a fast-food drive-through window? ... men have an innate desire to be cute while placing their order through the drive-through microphone. It's as if they believe the invisible mike on the plastic menu screen is actually connected to a standup comedy stage somewhere in the recesses of the restaurant. ~ Becky Freeman

A restaurant with candles and flowers evokes more reveries than the Isle of Bali does. ~ Mason Cooley

Passion isn't a path through the woods. Passion is the woods. It's the deepest, wildest part of the forest; the grove where the fairies still dance and obscene old vipers snooze in the boughs. Everybody but the most dried up and dysfunctional is drawn to the grove and enchanted by its mysteries, but then they just can't wait to call in the chain saws and bulldozers and replace it with a family-style restaurant or a new S and L. That's the payoff, I guess. Safety. Security. Certainty. Yes, indeed. Well, remember this, pussy latte: we're not involved in a 'relationship,' you and I, we're involved in a collision. Collisions don't much lend themselves to secure futures ... ~ Tom Robbins

That night a bomb exploded in the Corleone Family mall in Long Beach, thrown from a car that pulled up to the chain, then roared away. That night also two button men of the Corleone Family were killed as they peaceably ate their dinner in a small Italian restaurant in Greenwich Village. The Five Families War of 1946 had begun. ~ Mario Puzo

In the restaurant business, there's the concept of pivot. Pivot to the stove, pivot to the refrigerator. ~ Tom Douglas

The men on the show have it easy, in part because men on TV have uniforms: There's the jacket, in black, blue, or gray. There's the shirt, the pants. I can never tell whether Tom is gaining or losing weight beneath his boxy suits. He always looks the same. Tom also has the benefit of being Tom, a decorated veteran of the restaurant kitchen. Like so many chefs, he is practiced at the taste-of-this, taste-of-that eating regimen. I'm the one who has to look like a glorified weathergirl, with formfitting dresses and all, which, don't get me wrong, I love - at least until I don't. ~ Padma Lakshmi

Tom, will you let me love you in your restaurant?
i will let you make me a sandwich of your
invention and i will eat it and call
it a carolyn sandwich. then you will kiss my lips
and taste the mayonnaise and
that is how you shall love me in my restaurant.

Tom, will you come up to my empty beige
apartment and help me set up my daybed?
yes, and i will put the screws in loosely so that
when we move on it, later,
it will rock like a cradle and then you will know
you are my baby

Tom, I am sitting on my dirt bike on the deck.
Will you come out from the kitchen
and watch the people with me?
yes, and then we will race to your bedroom.
i will win and we will tangle up
on your comforter while the sweat rains from your
stomachs and foreheads.

Tom, the stars are sitting in tonight like gumball
gems in a little girl's
jewlery box. Later can we walk to the duck pond?
yes, and we can even go the long way past the
jungle gym. i will push you on
the swing, but promise me you'll hold tight. if
you fall i might disappear.

Tom, can we make a baby together? I want to be
a big pregnant woman with a
loved face and give you a squalling red daughter.
no, but i will come inside you and you will be
my daughter

Tom, will you stay the night with me and sleep
so close that we are one person,
no, but i will l ~ Carolyn Creedon

I don't think I have charisma. I don't think that someone will yell 'Wow, he's charismatic' when I'm eating in a restaurant. ~ Jay Park

A couple of months ago, I was down in Florida for the Food and Wine Festival. And this journalist grabbed me and said, 'How does it feel to be a TV guy? You're no longer in the restaurant business.' And I laughed. I asked him, 'How long do you think it takes me to do a season?' He said, 'Well, 200 days.' And I was like, '200 days? Try 20!' ~ Tom Colicchio

If I go to a restaurant, other people stare. The meal is ruined. ~ Brigitte Bardot

The Tower is not a sacred monument, and no taboo can forbid a commonplace life to develop there, but there can be no question, nonetheless, of a trivial phenomenon here; the installation of a restaurant on the Tower, for instance ... The Eiffel Tower is a comfortable object, and moreover, it is in this that it its an object wither very old (analogous, for instance, to the Circus) or very modern (analogous to certain American institutions such as the drive-in movie, in which one can simultaneously enjoy the film, the car, the food, and the freshness of the night air). Further, by affording its visitor a whole polyphony of pleasures, from technological wonder to haute cuisine, including the panorama, the Tower ultimately reunites with the essential function of all major human sites: autarchy; the Tower can live on itself: one can dream there, eat there, observe there, understand there, marvel there, shop there, as on an ocean liner (another mythic object that sets children dreaming), one can feel oneself cut off from the world and yet the owner of a world. ~ Roland Barthes

Our awareness of time affects how we think and act. This is illustrated by the story about the clock in a restaurant window. It "had stopped a few minutes past noon. One day a friend asked the owner if he knew the clock was not running. 'Yes,' replied the restaurant man, 'but you would be surprised to know how many people look at that clock, think they are hungry, and come in to get something to eat."' If only there were some kind of divine timepiece that would arouse a spiritual hunger in people! ~ James E. Faust

there is a man blocking our way. Sitting astride a tractor with a big scooping bucket on the front, he yells at us for being on his property. We explain the boats, and he says we can't tie up there, that this is his restaurant. We say there's no room anywhere, that the Coast Guard won't let us leave, that they'll shoot at us if we do. He tells us we better go fucking home and get our guns. He tells us we're at war. ~ Hugh Howey

We arrive at demonstrations excited, as if our favorite musician is playing on the speakers' stage. We convince ourselves we are doing something to solve the racial problem when we are really doing something to satisfy our feelings. We go home fulfilled, like we dined at our favorite restaurant. And this fulfillment is fleeting, like a drug high. The problems of inequity and injustice persist. They persistently make us feel bad and guilty. We persistently do something to make ourselves feel better as we convince ourselves we are making society better, as we never make society better. ~ Ibram X. Kendi

When I was a small boy, my father told me never to recommend a church or a woman to anyone. And I have found it wise never to recommend a restaurant either. Something always goes wrong with the cheese souffle. ~ Edmund G. Love

But after World War II, the brothers realized they were running hard just to stay in one place. They weren't building volume even though their parking lot was always full. So they did a courageous thing. They closed that successful restaurant in 1948 and reopened it a short time later with a radically different kind of operation. It was a restaurant stripped down to the minimum in service and menu, the prototype for legions of fast-food units that later would spread across the land. Hamburgers, fries, and beverages were prepared on an assembly line basis, and, to the amazement of everyone, Mac and Dick included, the thing worked! ~ Ray Kroc

No one washes their hands after they piss unless they're in a public place. If I'm at the airport, or a restaurant, and someone else is there, I'll soap up for the sake of civilization, but it's only for show, I don't really care if I have ultraviolet traces of urine or feces on my hands. But, if I see someone walk oudda the men's without soaping up I'll think he's deranged, borderline psychotic. At least pretend that washing your hands matters. You know, for the sake of civilization. ~ Shannon Lyndsy

The day after I turn pro, Philly gets a call from Nike. They want to meet with me about an endorsement deal. Philly and I meet the Nike man in Newport beach, at a restaurant called the Rusty Pelican. His name is Ian Hamilton.
I call him Mr. Hamilton, but he says I should call him Ian. He smiles in a way that makes me trust him instantly. Philly, however, remains wary.
Boys, Ian says, I think Andre has a very bright future.
Thank you.
I'd like Nike to be a part of that future, to be a partner in that future.
Thank you.
I'd like to offer you a two-year contract.
Thank you.
During which time Nike will provide all your gear, and pay you $20,ooo.
For both years?
For eacvh year.
Ah.
Philly jumps in. What would Andre have to do in exchange for this money?
Ian looks confused. Well, he says, Andre would have to do what Andre has been doing, son. Keep being Andre. And wear Nike stuff. ~ Andre Agassi

So he is putting down junk and coming on with tea. I take three drags, Jane looked at him and her flesh crystallized. I leaped up screaming "I got the fear!" and ran out of the house. Drank a beer in a little restaurant - mosaic bar and soccer scores and bullfight posters - and waited for the bus to town.

A year later in Tangier I heard she was dead. ~ William S. Burroughs

The house smells like an Italian restaurant when I walk through the door. I turn to Logan, who shoots me a WTF look, and I shrug as if to say fuck if I know, because I honestly don't know. I bend down to unlace my scuffed black boots, then follow the mouthwatering aroma to the kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I blink like I've just stumbled upon a desert mirage.

Hannah's sexy ass greets my eyes. She's angled over the oven door, wearing Tuck's pink oven mitts as she pulls a steaming pan of lasagna off the middle shelf. At the sound of my footsteps, she glances over her shoulder and smiles. "Oh, hey. Perfect timing. ~ Elle Kennedy

They spent the day with Lucia, who promised that the following day she would take them up to Scala, an even tinier, loftier town where her parents now lived. That evening, Mac took her to a restaurant called Il Flauto di Pan- Pan's Flute- perched at the Villa Cimbrone among the gardens and crumbling walls. It was probably the most beautiful restaurant she'd ever seen. The centuries-old villa was embellished with incredible gardens of fuchsia bougainvillea, lemon and cypress trees and flowering herbs that scented the air. Their veranda table had an impossibly gorgeous view of the sea. ~ Susan Wiggs

It's not always true that all the world's a stage. Sometimes it's a boxing ring. Right now I had a ringside seat at the Windjammer restaurant in Etonville, New Jersey. ~ Suzanne M. Trauth

Connor pockets his cell. "Lily," he says. "If I wanted to date for a last name, I'd have a girl on my arm every single day. I would never be single." He leans forward. "I promise you, that my intentions are pure. And I think it's sweet you're looking out for Rose, but she's more than capable of taking care of herself, which is one of the many reasons why I want to pursue her." "What's another reason?" I test him. He smiles. "I won't have to taxingly explain to her menu items in a real French restaurant." He knows she's fluent? "I won't have to explain financial statements or dividends. I'll be able to discuss anything and everything in the world, and she'll have an answer. ~ Krista Ritchie

We're living in a funny time right now, when people build restaurant-grade kitchens in their homes, and if you walk into a specialty cooking store, it seems like you need sixteen gadgets and a graduate degree to make a meal. At the same time, other people live entirely on takeout, frozen food, and energy bars that don't resemble anything close to food. I think there's a middle ground worth finding between those two extremes, where we feed ourselves and the people we love with our hands and without a lot of tricks and fanfare. ~ Shauna Niequist

Indeed, there is something about reading in a restaurant that is borderline romantic. Leaning back in that corner booth, an evocative title in our hands, a stale cup of java in front of us, every so often bolting forward to jot a phrase onto the napkin, we look like, well, poets-unknown belletrists scraping through the hardscrabble years and awaiting the distinction that is imminent. the waiter of waitress refills our cup, we drop a memorable apothegm or two, share a laugh fraught with meaning, scope out the joint, and return to our tome. Nonbiblioholics strain to espy our title; conversation is struck up on things Kafkaesque and Kierkegaardian; and we forge a genuine biblioholic simpatico with all around. ~ Tom Raabe

Since the road to publication is usually so arduous, meandering and fraught with unexpected twists, writers have ample time to compose (in their heads or on fettuccini-stained restaurant napkins) dissertation-length monologues befitting that of a Shakespearean lead character, during which they describe - in complex, paragraph-long sentences - how exceedingly indebted they are to everyone they've ever met, read a book by or chatted about "Motivation" with online (in their entire lives) for the help given in the writing, acquisition, printing and distribution of their debut novels. ~ Marilyn Brant

This music that was supposed to only come from tapes like in any restaurant. Something would happened. One bird will start to do a little jazz thing, and another bird will start to answer. ~ John Hench

Hopefully not another employee stealing credit cards, Brooke mused. Or any sort of headache-inducing "oops moment," like the time one of the restaurant managers called to ask if he could fire a line cook after discovering that the man was a convicted murderer.

"Jeez. How'd you learn that?" Brooke had asked.

"He made a joke to one of the waiters about honing his cooking skills in prison. The waiter asked what he'd been serving time for, and he said, 'Murder.'"

"I bet that put an end to the conversation real fast. And yes, you can fire him," Brooke had said.

"Obviously, he lied on his employment application." All of Sterling's employees, regardless of job position, were required to answer whether they'd ever been convicted of a crime involving "violence, deceit, or theft." Pretty safe to say that murder qualified.

Ten minutes later, the manager had called her back.
"Um . . . what if he didn't exactly lie? I just double-checked his application, and as it turns out, he did check the box for having been convicted of a crime."

Brooke had paused at that. "And then the next question, where we ask what crime he'd been convicted for, what did he write?"

"Uh . . . 'second-degree murder.'"

"I see. Just a crazy suggestion here, Cory, but you might want to start reading these applications a little more closely before making employment offers."

"Please don't fire me. ~ Julie James

And I think, What did I want to be? Definitely not a bookkeeper. That's something I just ended up becoming after years and years of night school. And a restaurant owner? That was Proctor's dream, at first. A mother? I think I just became everything I am. Was. But at least I was someone out there. ~ Anissa Gray

I think 40 years ago, it would have been a little bit different because people had a tendency to think the actor was their part. I do find people who, all of a sudden, realize who is sitting in the restaurant and the first thing they react on is not necessarily, "There's that actor," but it's, "There's that killer guy." ~ Mads Mikkelsen

In the end, all critics should be guided by this one principle: Is this piece of work [TV show, movie, play, concert, album, restaurant] succeeding at what it set out to do? ~ Hank Stuever

This twinned twinkle was delightful but not completely satisfying; or rather it only sharpened my appetite for other tidbits of light and shade, and I walked on in a state of raw awareness that seemed to transform the whole of my being into one big eyeball rolling in the world's socket.

Through peacocked lashes I saw the dazzling diamond reflection of the low sun on the round back of a parked automobile. To all kinds of things a vivid pictorial sense had been restored by the sponge of the thaw. Water in overlapping festoons flowed down one sloping street and turned gracefully into another. With ever so slight a note of meretricious appeal, narrow passages between buildings revealed treasures of brick and purple. I remarked for the first time the humble fluting - last echoes of grooves on the shafts of columns - ornamenting a garbage can, and I also saw the rippling upon its lid - circles diverging from a fantastically ancient center. Erect, dark-headed shapes of dead snow (left by the blades of a bulldozer last Friday) were lined up like rudimentary penguins along the curbs, above the brilliant vibration of live gutters.

I walked up, and I walked down, and I walked straight into a delicately dying sky, and finally the sequence of observed and observant things brought me, at my usual eating time, to a street so distant from my usual eating place that I decided to try a restaurant which stood on the fringe of the town. Night had fallen without sound or ce ~ Vladimir Nabokov

A quarter century of running a restaurant - that's a long time to do one thing. ~ Charlie Trotter