Linette Chocolate Quotes

Life is not like a box of chocolates unless there's a few turds in the box. ~ Bill Maher

Nowadays I find chocolate and/or chocolate-based snacks to be great motivators. Everyone loves chocolate. If someone has a lot of work to do, put a piece of fudge in a glass container (so they can see it) and let them know that if they accomplish their tasks, they can eat the fudge. You'll definitely get a reaction! ~ Michael Scott

Life is not about finding yourself. It's mostly about chocolate. T-Shirt ~ Darynda Jones

Please, Noah, I don't want to do this wrong. Tell me how to make you feel good."
He shifted so that his body rested beside mine, his leg and arm still draped over me. I felt small under his warmth and strength.
His chocolate-brown eyes softened. "Being with you feels good. Touching you-" he tucked a curl behind my ear. "-feels good. I have never wanted anyone like I want you. There's nothing you can do wrong when just breathing makes everything right. ~ Katie McGarry

So we each had a piece of chocolate for dessert. I'd almost forgotten how much I love chocolate, how there's something about it that makes life a little more wonderful. ~ Susan Beth Pfeffer

And so, he gently chided Apostle John A. Widtsoe, whose wife advocated such a rigid interpretation of the Word of Wisdom as to proscribe chocolate because of the stimulants it contained, saying, "John, do you want to take all the joy out of life?"85 But he didn't stop there. At a reception McKay attended, the hostess served rum cake. "All the guests hesitated, watching to see what McKay would do. He smacked his lips and began to eat." When one guest expostulated, "'But President McKay, don't you know that is rum cake?' McKay smiled and reminded the guest that the Word of Wisdom forbade drinking alcohol, not eating ~ Gregory A. Prince

There are two things I eat that I know I shouldn't: chocolate and ice cream. You only live once, so I am going to eat chocolate. ~ John Tomac

There's a big confusion in this country over what we want versus what we need," Morrie said. "You need food, you want a chocolate sundae. You have to be honest with yourself. You don't need the latest sports car, you don't need the biggest house. The truth is, you don't get satisfaction from those things. You know what really gives you satisfaction? ... Offering others what you have to give ... I don't mean money, Mitch. I mean your time. Your concern. Your storytelling. It's not so hard. ~ Mitch Albom

I might be able to walk away from sexy, dangerous shifters, but chocolate had me at its beck and call. ~ Meghan Ciana Doidge

Writing or making anything-a poem, a bird feeder, a chocolate cake-has self-respect in it. You're working. You're trying. You're not lying down on the ground, having given up. ~ Sharon Olds

I drop my face to my hands and scrub hard.

"I wish I had your boobs," I hear Sam announce and raise my head to see who she's talking to. Of course, she's talking to Bryn.

"Right," she smirks and takes another bite of brownie.

"Dude, I do!" And just like that, Sam saunters across the room and cups Brynna's tit in her palm. "See? You have the perfect boobs. Stace, have you felt her boobs?"

Just kill me. Put a bullet in my head and end the agony.

"Oh yeah," Stacy waves her off. "She has great tits."

She has amazing tits.

"I wanna feel!" Jules bounces over and joins in.

"Give me more chocolate and you can touch all you want." Brynna laughs and then glances over at me. "This is the most action I've had in months."

"Motherfuckingsonofawhore." I grumble.

"Is Brynna single?" Mark asks Will.

"Keep your fucking hands off her," I growl at him before I know what's coming out of my mouth.

"Hey," he holds his hands up in surrender and laughs. "It was just an innocent question. ~ Kristen Proby

There's our homecoming picture. Last Halloween, when I dressed up as Mulan and Peter wore a dragon costume. There's a receipt from Tart and Tangy. One of his notes to me, from before. If you make Josh's dumb white-chocolate cranberry cookies and not my fruitcake ones, it's over. Pictures of us from Senior Week. Prom. Dried rose petals from my corsage. The Sixteen Candles picture.
There are some things I didn't include, like the ticket stub from our first real date, the note he wrote me that said, I like you in blue. Those things are tucked away in my hatbox. I'll never let those go.
But the really special thing I've included is my letter, the one I wrote to him so long ago, the one that brought us together. I wanted to keep it, but something felt right about Peter having it. One day all of this will be proof, proof that we were here, proof that we loved each other. It's the guarantee that no matter what happens to us in the future, this time was ours.
When he gets to that page, Peter stops. "I thought you wanted to keep this," he said.
"I wanted to, but then I felt like you should have it. Just promise you'll keep it forever."
He turns the page. It's a picture from when we took my grandma to karaoke. I sang "You're So Vain" and dedicated it to Peter. Peter got up and sang "Style" by Taylor Swift. Then he dueted "Unchained Melody" with my grandma, and after, she made us both promise to take a Korean language class at UVA. She and Peter took a ton of se ~ Jenny Han

Chocolate is God's apology for brocolli ~ Richard Paul Evans

Well, first I tried just telling her the truth. That if you kiss her, you'll die. She started crying hysterically."
"Oh, good thinking," I say, lifting the cup of hot chocolate to my mouth. Why hadn't I thought of that right off?
"Yeeeah, turns out not so much. I thought that might have worked since, you know, she's supposedly in love with you, but then being a total psychopath and all, she started blubbering, 'I'd rather have one perfect passionate kiss with Haden and lose him forever, than to have never kissed him at all.'"
I almost choke on a sip of hot chocolate. It burns my throat. ~ Bree Despain

At hotels, you are an actress. Absolutely. You can do what you want. Go where you want. I love my home too. But I love to arrive in a hotel. They have books, chocolate, food. I put things in the little refrigerator. ~ Sonia Rykiel

I like all sorts of chocolate. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, anything. ~ Freddie Highmore

They're like chocolate-chip cookies, though. Can't have just one. ~ Steve Berry

I took that smile and I put it right where the hole in my chest was. It was better than coffee, or chocolate, or a perfect pirouette. I clutched it and held it tight. ~ Cecil Castellucci

I mind my body by eating whole, healthy foods. I learned from Nutrisystem to eat consistently all day; otherwise, your body hoards fat. Of course, I also mind my body when it occasionally whispers, 'Marie, you need some chocolate.' ~ Marie Osmond

It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of the season. A great chocolate-colored pall lowered over heaven, but the wind was continually charging and routing these embattled vapors; so that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr. Utterson beheld a marvelous number of degrees and hues of twilight; for here it would be dark like the black end of evening; and there would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the light of some strange conflagration; and here for a moment, the fog would be quite broken up and a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths. The dismal quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its muddy ways, and slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had never been extinguished or had been kindled afresh to combat this mournful reinvasion of darkness, seemed, in the lawyer's eyes, like a district of some city in a nightmare. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Your hand and your mouth agreed many years ago that, as far as chocolate is concerned, there is no need to involve your brain. ~ Dave Barry

I tried to bend over and touch my toes this morning," I tell the girls. "I tipped over, hit my head on the desk, and then had to call for Nana to get up. I'm literally the size of an Oompa Loompa."

"You're the most beautiful Oompa Loompa in the world," Hope declares.

"Because she's not orange."

"Oompa Loompas were orange?" I try to conjure up a mental picture of them but can only recall their white overalls.

Carin purses her lips. "Were they supposed to be candies? Like orange slices? Or maybe candy corn?"

"They were squirrels," Hope informs us.

"No way," we both say at once.

"Yes way. I read it on the back of a Laffy Taffy when I was like ten. It was a trivia question and I'd just seen the movie. I was terrified of squirrels for years afterwards."

"Shit. Learn something new every day." I push my body upright, a task that takes a certain amount of upper body strength these days, and toddle over to inspect the crib.

"I don't believe you," Carin tells Hope. "The movie is about candy. It's called Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Since when are squirrels candies? I can buy into a bunny because, you know, the chocolate Easter bunnies, but not a squirrel."

"Look it up, Careful. I'm right."

"You're ruining my childhood." Carin turns to me. "Don't do this to your daughter."

"Raise her to believe Oompa Loompas are squirrels?"

"Yes ~ Elle Kennedy

They were falling back into familiarity, into common ground, into the dirty gray. Just ordinary humans in ordinary opaque boiled-egg light, without grace, without revelation, composite of contradictions, easy principles, arguing about what they half believed in or even what they didn't believe in at all, desiring comfort as much as raw austerity, authenticity as much as playacting, desiring coziness of family as much as to abandon it forever. Cheese and chocolate they wanted, but also to kick all these bloody foreign things out. A wild daring love ... but also a rice and dal love blessed by the unexciting feel of everyday, its surprises safely enmeshed in something solidly familiar ... Every single contradiction history or opportunity might make available to them, every contradiction they were heir to, they desired. But only as much, of course, as they desired purity and a lack of contradiction. ~ Kiran Desai

Can I have money for a chocolate parfait at least? Or even
an iced mocha? Considering the heat and what I'm wearing
right now - and considering that I'm about to get pummeled
for your sake - I think I should be allowed some
compensation. You should've seen that in the Supervillain
Handbook in the 'Sidekicks: Who are They, and How are They
Cared For?' chapter. ~ Hayden Thorne

Is it as bad out there as they say it is?" he asked. "From my six-inch window, it looks like we got hit with one hell of a storm."

"It took me nearly an hour to shovel the sidewalk this morning," Jordan said.

Kyle brushed his neck-length dark blond hair off his face. "See? That's one of the positives of being in prison. No shoveling."

Her brother had long ago set the rules regarding their visits. Jokes about being in prison were expected and encouraged, sympathy was not. Which was good for both of them, considering her family had never done particularly well with the mushy and sentimental stuff.

"You live in a penthouse condo and haven't shoveled snow for years," she pointed out.

"A deliberate choice I made because of the trauma of my youth," Kyle said. "Remember how Dad used to make me shovel the whole block every time it snowed? I was eight when he came up with that plan - barely taller than the shovel."

"And I got to stay inside making hot chocolate with Mom." Jordan waved off the retort she saw coming. "Hey, it was good for you - it built character." She paused for a moment, taking in their steel-barred surroundings. "Maybe Dad should've made you shovel the next block over, too."

"That's cute."

"I thought so. ~ Julie James

I reached reverently into the bag, then took a big bite of the cornetta. It was warm and melty and tasted like every perfect thing that could ever happen to you. Italian summers. First loves. Chocolate. ~ Jenna Evans Welch

Well, Mimi Mackson, tell me what you like to bake."
"Lots of things- brownies, cookies, pies, tarts, scones. But cupcakes are my favorite. I like to flavor them with unusual spices and herbs."
"I see. And what's the last thing that you made?"
"Double-chocolate brownies with cinnamon and cayenne, to welcome someone home."
"And prior to that?"
"Cheddar-chive biscuits."
She waved her hand in front of her face like she smelled something bad. "No, no, my word, that will not do at all. Just sweet things, please." She stood and paced behind the desk. "Ha! Cheese and chives! I wouldn't dream of baking, eating, or even serving those, not to win the world."
Well, that was strange. Sweet isn't sweet without savory. One isn't good without the other- I thought everyone knew that. Even the most sugary dessert needs a dash of salt.
Mrs. T sat again. "So tell me then, young Mimi. The best sweet thing you've ever, ever made?"
"Hmm... lemon-lavender cupcakes, I guess. To celebrate friendship. ~ Rajani LaRocca

A present," he said, then winced. The presents he'd bought for Portia usually included ropes of pearls or gemstones the size of robin's eggs. A man of his wealth ought to provide something much nicer than a sack of strange-looking pods. Sophie peeked inside the bag, her face screwing up in confusion. "What are they?" she asked, lifting the odd vegetable from the bag. It was a ruddy orange shade, larger than her hand, and looked like an oblong pumpkin. There were four of them in the bag. "You once said the cocoa powder in this village was bad, and you wanted to make your own. These are cocoa pods, shipped directly from Brazil. If you split it open, you will find fresh cocoa beans inside. Then you can begin your culinary adventure of making chocolate from scratch." "You remembered!" she exclaimed. Her eyes widened in delight as she held the pod to her nose for a sniff and then ran her fingers along its waxy skin. "It's fabulous. Thank you! ~ Elizabeth Camden

Demands for healthy food choices were like New Year's resolutions. Top priority on Boxing Day, forgotten with time to spare for Valentine's chocolate. ~ Richard A. Lovett

dessert place that was open until one a.m. and served liquor along with chocolate thingies draped in whatever topped with blah-blah-blah on a bed of poached uh-huh, yeah. ~ J.R. Ward

Women have bitchfests when their men do something stupid. They get together to dicuss us, compare notes and sympathize. She has to have enough chocolate to share ~ Robin Kaye

Her gingerbread keeps and keeps. It outlasts all daintier gifts. Flowers wilt and shed mottled petals, mold blooms greenish-white on chocolate truffles, and Harriet's gingerbread hunkers down in its tin, no more attractive than the day it arrived, but no more repellent either. ~ Helen Oyeyemi

Chic Murray once told me he fell in the street, and a woman said to him, Did you fall? He said, No, I'm tryin' to break a bar of chocolate in my back pocket. ~ Billy Connolly

Dante watched Tess eat the thick, caramel-laced brownie, feeling her pleasure radiate across the small space that separated them on the river-walk bench. She'd offered him a bite, and although his kind could not consume crude human food in anything more than a mouthful, he accepted a small taste of the sticky chocolate confection if only to share in Tess's unabashed enjoyment. He swallowed the heavy, pretty much revolting bit of pasty sweetness with a tight smile.
"Good, huh?" Tess licked her chocolate-coated fingers, slipping one after the other into her mouth and sucking them clean.
"Delicious," Dante said, watching her with his own brand of hunger.
"You can have some more if you want it."
"No." He drew back, shaking his head. "No, it's all yours. Please. Enjoy it. ~ Lara Adrian

Miss America was always white. All the beautiful brown women in America, beautiful sun tans, beautiful shapes, all types of complexions, but she always was white.And Miss World was always white, and Miss Universe was always white.And the angel fruit cake was the white cake and the devil food cake was the chocolate cake.I said, 'Momma, why is everything white?' I always wondered. And the President lived in the White House. ~ Muhammad Ali

Kissing Jack was dangerous, like drowning in something that tasted good. He was like the artery-clogging chocolate cake she couldn't resist, heaven in her mouth but hell on her heart. ~ Amanda Usen

My mouth is full of Oreo, ice cream, fudge, and Cool Whip, so I just nod.
This is heaven. I'm moving into one of their guest rooms.
So, Laur, do you want to come with us tomorrow? You can help me plan out furniture while Nick and Ryan dig for grubs,' she says, licking her fork.
Can we keep the rest of this dessert?
She grins. 'Sure.'
Then I'll come.'
She watches me put another bite in my mouth and close my eyes.'You're pitiful.'
No, just a chocoholic.'
She shakes her head. 'Same thing. ~ Erynn Mangum

My personality made me easy to get along with – unless you were looking at my guy like he was a big, juicy slab of prime rib with a side of mint chocolate chiop ice cream. ~ Jus Accardo

She wrinkles up her nose. "It's ten o'clock in the morning."
"So? It's never too early for chocolate. ~ Lauren Barnholdt

I can't cook to save my life but I can bake a flour-less chocolate-hazelnut tort with a spicy caramel sauce. ~ Anna Kendrick

But what about the apparent absurdity of the idea of dignity, freedom, and reason, sustained by extreme military discipline, including of the practice of discarding weak children? This "absurdity" is simply the price of freedom - freedom is not free, as they put it in the film [300]. Freedom is not something given, it is regained through a hard struggle in which one should be ready to risk everything. Spartan ruthless military discipline is not simply the opposite of Athenian "liberal democracy," it is its inherent condition, it lays the foundation for it: the free subject of Reason can only emerge through ruthless self-discipline. True freedom is not a freedom of choice made from a safe distance, like choosing between a strawberry cake and a chocolate cake; true freedom overlaps with necessity, one makes a truly free choice when one's choice puts at stake one's very existence - one does it because one simply "cannot do otherwise." When one's country is under foreign occupation and one is called by a resistance leader to join the fight against the occupiers, the reason given is not "you are free to choose," but: "Can't you see that this is the only thing you can do if you want to retain your dignity? ~ Slavoj Zizek

Comfort eating or pure greed? Most likely a mixture of both. Pieces of cake or biscuits or chocolate could instantly sweeten the sourness of my life. If you have been called gay all day in the playground, a cake when you returned home from school offered some consolation. A fairy cake of course. ~ David Walliams

The silence was shattered as the bedroom door flew open with a wall-shaking crash. Hermione shrieked and dropped Secrets of the Darkest Art; Crookshanks streaked under the bed, hissing indignantly; Ron jumped off the bed, skidded on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper, and smacked his head on the opposite wall; and Harry instinctively dived for his wand before realizing that he was looking up at Mrs. Weasley, whose hair was disheveled and whose face was contorted with rage.
"I'm so sorry to break up this cozy little gathering," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sure you all need your rest . . . but there are wedding presents stacked in my room that need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help."
"Oh yes," said Hermione, looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction, "we will . . . we're sorry . . ."
With an anguished look at Harry and Ron, Hermione hurried out of the room after Mrs. Weasley.
"It's like being a house-elf," complained Ron in an undertone, still massaging his head as he and Harry followed. "Except without the job satisfaction. The sooner this wedding's over, the happier I'll be."
"Yeah," said Harry, "then we'll have nothing to do except find Horcruxes. . . . It'll be like a holiday, won't it?"
Ron started to laugh, but at the sight of the enormous pile of wedding presents waiting for them in Mrs. Weasley's room, stopped quite abruptly. ~ J.K. Rowling

It's too soon, too fast. We don't even know each other."
"Says who?" Ethan demanded. "Who decides how long it should take? Who makes the rules?"
Erica shrugged because she really didn't know it just seemed like common sense.
He put his index finger under her chin and swept his thumb just under her lower lip. "I do know you." He whispered. "I know you love chocolate and hate roses. I know you are kind and compassionate and generous. I know you feed the homeless and the stray cat that lives behind your apartment. I know you are a hopeless romantic. You are fiercely loyal." His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I know you are ticklish; I know what makes you moan; I know what makes you squirm." He kissed her softly. "I know when I am with you I don't want to be anywhere else." He kissed her again and this time she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Their tongues tangled in a duel that left her breathless. ~ Melissa Hale