Maple Bofuri Quotes

Raised herself on one round elbow and looked out on a tiny river like a gleaming blue snake winding itself around a purple hill. Right below the house was a field white as snow with daisies, and the shadow of the huge maple tree that bent over the little house fell lacily across it. Far beyond it were the white crests of Four Winds Harbour and a long range of sun-washed dunes and red cliffs. ~ L.M. Montgomery

The stripped and shapely Maple grieves The ghosts of her Departed leaves. The ground is hard, As hard as stone. The year is old, The birds are flown. ~ John Updike

Around in silent grandeur stood The stately children of the wood; Maple and elm and towering pine Mantled in folds of dark woodbine. ~ Julia Caroline Dorr

After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth ... The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her ... In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible. ~ Elizabeth George Speare

Whenever there is a breeze in the old forest, you might, for a moment, realize that the trees are singing. There, on the wind, are the voices of sugarberry and juniper and maple... ~ Kathi Appelt

Let's say you had to report back to heaven at the end of your time on earth, tell them what your personal allotment of experience had been: wouldn't it sound like Poppy's speech? The smell of radiator dust on a winter morning, the taste of hot maple syrup ... ~ Anne Tyler

The gaps are the thing. The gaps are the spirit's one home, the altitudes and latitudes so dazzlingly spare and clean that the spirit can discover itself like a once-blind man unbound. The gaps are the clefts in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God; they are fissures between mountains and cells the wind lances through, the icy narrowing fiords splitting the cliffs of mystery. Go up into the gaps. If you can find them; they shift and vanish too. Stalk the gaps. Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn, and unlock - more than a maple - universe. ~ Annie Dillard

It may also be that, quite apart from any specific references one food makes to another, it is the very allusiveness of cooked food that appeals to us, as indeed that same quality does in poetry or music or art. We gravitate towards complexity and metaphor, it seems, and putting fire to meat or fermenting fruit and grain, gives us both: more sheer sensory information and, specifically, sensory information that, like metaphor, points away from the here and now. This sensory metaphor - this stands for that - is one of the most important transformations of nature wrought by cooking. And so a piece of crisped pig skin becomes a densely allusive poem of flavors: coffee and chocolate, smoke and Scotch and overripe fruit and, too, the sweet-salty-woodsy taste of maple syrup on bacon I loved as a child. As with so many other things, we humans seem to like our food overdetermined. ~ Michael Pollan

Mark, looking beatific, took the dispenser of maple syrup off the table and upended it over his strawberries. He picked one up and put it in his mouth, stem and all. Julian stared at him.
"What?" Mark said. "This is a perfectly normal thing to eat."
"Sure it is," said Julian. "If you're a hummingbird. ~ Cassandra Clare

I feel you're far away," the man might say. He is observing you, calculating, forming equations he may take to a representative of the patriarchy, such as a doctor, a lawyer, or military official. He is considering physical incarceration and/or biochemical imprisonments such as occur with antidepressants. He is dangerous.
This is a juncture where you may smile. This is optional. You might allow your lips to form the ambiguous seductive shape of slow regret. Or let your mouth fill with too much night, incinerated maple leaves and fox teeth. What you mean is, not yet. ~ Kate Braverman

The menu is spectacular. Passed hors d'oeuvres include caramelized shallot tartlets topped with Gorgonzola, cubes of crispy pork belly skewered with fresh fig, espresso cups of chilled corn soup topped with spicy popcorn, mini arepas filled with rare skirt steak and chimichurri and pickle onions, and prawn dumplings with a mango serrano salsa. There is a raw bar set up with three kinds of oysters, and a raclette station where we have a whole wheel of the nutty cheese being melted to order, with baby potatoes, chunks of garlic sausage, spears of fresh fennel, lightly pickled Brussels sprouts, and hunks of sourdough bread to pour it over. When we head up for dinner, we will start with a classic Dover sole amandine with a featherlight spinach flan, followed by a choice of seared veal chops or duck breast, both served with creamy polenta, roasted mushrooms, and lacinato kale. Next is a light salad of butter lettuce with a sharp lemon Dijon vinaigrette, then a cheese course with each table receiving a platter of five cheeses with dried fruits and nuts and three kinds of bread, followed by the panna cottas. Then the cake, and coffee and sweets. And at midnight, chorizo tamales served with scrambled eggs, waffle sticks with chicken fingers and spicy maple butter, candied bacon strips, sausage biscuit sandwiches, and vanilla Greek yogurt parfaits with granola and berries on the "breakfast" buffet, plus cheeseburger sliders, mini Chicago hot dogs, little Chinese take-out containers of ~ Stacey Ballis

I'm very proud to be wearing the "C" for the Maple Leafs. It puts a smile on my face everyday ~ Mats Sundin

With the fans and the Toronto Maple Leafs organization, the way I've been treated here has been awesome. ~ Mats Sundin

The chalkboard menu really seemed to emphasize that everything was local and that everything had maple syrup in it. The BBQ beef was in maple syrup BBQ sauce. The mac and cheese was made with smoked maple cheese. There was maple tofu and maple-syrup dressing for the salads.
"Did you forget you were in Vermont for a second?" Stevie said to Janelle as they took their trays. "Look down. You are standing in maple syrup."
"Yeah," Janelle replied, a bit dispiritedly, as she took some tofu and vegetables. "It's not my favorite."
Nate stared down the sneeze guard at the mapleized meats.
"I'll drink the living blood of trees," he said. "Hit me. ~ Maureen Johnson

In music, musicians must be able to read musical notes and have developed the skill to follow the music from their studies. This skill allows them to read new musical notes and be capable of hearing most or all of the sounds (melodies, harmonies, etc.) in their head without having to play the music piece. By analogy, in Mathematics, we believe a scientist, engineer or mathematician must be able to read and understand mathematical codes (e.g., Maple, Mathematica) in their head without having to execute the problem. ~ Inna K. Shingareva

Just as Drake turned six weeks old, I decided I wanted to lose some baby weight. Chip and I were both still getting used to the idea that we had a baby of our own now, but I felt it was okay to leave him with Chip for a half hour or so in the mornings so I could take a short run up and down Third Street. I left Drake in the little swing he loved, kissed Chip good-bye, and off I went.
Chip was so sweet and supportive. When I got back he was standing in the doorway saying, "Way to go, baby!" He handed me a banana and asked if I'd had any cramps or anything. I hadn't. I actually felt great.
I walked in and discovered Chip had prepared an elaborate breakfast for me, as if I'd run a marathon or something. I hadn't done more than a half-mile walk-run, but he wanted to celebrate the idea that I was trying to get myself back together physically. He'd actually driven to the store and back and bought fresh fruit and real maple syrup and orange juice for me.
I sat down to eat, and I looked over at Drake. He was sound asleep in his swing, still wearing nothing but his diaper. "Chip, did you take Drake to the grocery store without any clothes on?"
Chip gave me a real funny look. He said, "What?"
I gave him a funny look back.
"Oh my gosh," he said. "I totally forgot Drake was here. He was so quiet."
"Chip!" I yelled, totally freaked out.
I was a first-time mom. Can you imagine?
Anyone who's met Chip knows he can get a little sidetracked, but th ~ Joanna Gaines

I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers. ~ Leif Enger

So, I see we meet again." He offered a smile. Although he could clearly see from her rounded abdomen that she was expecting a baby, he couldn't keep from noticing once again that she was a lovely woman. "I have to say, we didn't officially meet," he continued, trying to put her at ease. "Unless of course you go by the title Frau Maple Syrup." "I'm Frau Werner. Annalisa Werner." "And I'm Carl Richards." He put his arm to his waist and bowed as if he were the grand duke and she a duchess. "I'm Gretchen." Annalisa's daughter let go of her oma and turned to him. "Ah, I was expecting something like Raindrop." He turned to the little girl and bowed to her. "But I like Gretchen much better. It's a lovely name for a princess. ~ Jody Hedlund

Oh! to be a child again. My only treasures, bits of shell and stone and glass. To love nothing but maple sugar. To fear nothing but a big dog. To go to sleep without dreading the morrow. To wake up with a shout. Not to have seen a dead face. Not to dread a living one. To be able to believe. ~ Fanny Fern

To be honest, it's probably better if I don't talk. Cute guys make me nervous. Like tongued-tied total-brain-malfunction nervous. All my filters shut off and suddenly I'm telling them about the time I peed my pants in the third grade during a field trip to the maple syrup factory, or how I'm scared of puppets and have mild OCD that could possibly drive me to tidy up your room the moment you turn your head. ~ Elle Kennedy

Science uses the Red Shift to measure deep cosmic distances. But how to measure deep historic time? How about - the Saffron Shift.

If history itself had a color, it is . . . like wood or bark, or living forest floor.

Assigning hues to time periods, the sum total of history is saffron-brown - but the chromatic arc starts from blinding white (prehistory) to sun-yellow (Ancient Greece), then deepening to pale wood tones (Dark Ages) and finally exploding like an infinite chord into a full brown palette that includes mahoganies, siennas (Middle Ages), oak, sandalwood (the Renaissance), cherry, maple (Age of Reason), and near-black old woods (Industrial Revolution) for which there may not be names.

As time approaches our own, the wood-brown palette fades to a weird glassy colorlessness, goes black-and-white for a brief span as you think of photographs of your grandparents, and then again fades until we get a clear medium that is the color of the world.

And the present moment is perfectly transparent.

It's only as you start looking into the future, that the colors start returning. The glass is turning silvery with a murky haze, and there is blue somewhere in the distance . . . ~ Vera Nazarian

Taking me in, he sweeps his hair back revealing eyes the color of maple syrup. I have the sudden urge to eat pancakes. ~ Samantha Towle

To her bier Comes the year Not with weeping and distress, as mortals do, But, to guide her way to it, All the trees have torches lit; Blazing red the maples shine the woodlands through ... ~ Lucy Larcom

He loved the colors of her, pink and mauve and ivory, all washed in light. The glistening tumble of her hair held the colors of autumn: chestnut, maple, russet, umber. ~ Lisa Kleypas

For hours she had lain in a kind of gentle torpor, not unlike that sweet lassitude which masters one in the hush of a midsummer noon, when the heat seems to have silenced the very birds and insects, and, lying sunk in the tasselled meadow grasses, one looks up through a level roofing of maple-leaves at the vast, shadowless, and unsuggestive blue. ~ Edith Wharton

We're going to get a couple pretty, fluffy inches in the morning for a gorgeous December evening wedding. Go get ready for rehearsal."

"I'm afraid of rehearsal. My voice is going to squeak. I think I'm getting a zit right in the middle of my chin. I'm going to trip coming down the aisle. It's okay if Carter trips. People expect it. But –"

…

"Carter isn't nervous. "Mac narrowed her eyes in a scowl. "I could hate him for that."

"Mackensie." Parker turned from the computer. "I was in the kitchen this morning when Mrs. G made him sit down and eat some breakfast. He put maple syrup in his coffee."

"He did?" She threw up her arms in a cheer. "He is nervous. I feel better. ~ Nora Roberts

1 cup milk (more or less, depending on how thick you like your oatmeal) ½ cup quick-cook rolled oats ¼ cup canned pumpkin puree ¼ teaspoon pumpkin pie spice ¼ teaspoon cinnamon ¼ teaspoon salt ½ banana, sliced ¼ cup walnuts, chopped 2 tablespoons maple syrup Whipped cream (optional) Bring the milk to a boil in a saucepan. Add the oats, then stir in the pumpkin, spices, and salt. Cook, stirring constantly, about 2 minutes (or as indicated by the package directions on the rolled oats). Pour the oatmeal into a bowl and add sliced banana, walnuts, maple syrup, and whipped cream (if desired). ~ Jordan Reid

Many of the artifacts of my house had become potential devices for my own destruction: the attic rafters (and an outside maple or two) a means to hang myself, the garage a place to inhale carbon monoxide, the bathtub a vessel to receive the flow from my opened arteries. The kitchen knives in their drawers had but one purpose for me. ~ William Styron

2 cups unbleached flour 1 cup rolled oats 1 Tbsp baking powder ½ tsp sea salt 1 cup sliced almonds ½ cup shredded coconut ½ cup chocolate chips 2 cups maple syrup 6 oz firm silken tofu (aseptic package) 1 ripe banana ½ cup saffower or sunflower oil ½ cup vegetable shortening 1 Tbsp vanilla ~ Tanya Petrovna

He could have spent the whole night watching her red lips form the words to the songs. Those lips-they were as bright as the red maple trees that glowed this time of year. Her blue eyes danced with each fast song, a wild swirl of crisp leaves in the autumn wind.

That was how she haunted his heart. Every season, every corner of Gott's good land, he saw Annie there. ~ Rosalind Lauer

Under the trimmed willows, where brown children
are playing
And leaves tumbling, the trumpets blow. A quaking
of cemeteries.
Banners of scarlet rattle through a sadness of maple
trees,
Riders along rye-fields, empty mills.
Or shepherds sing during the night, and stags step
delicately
Into the circle of their fire, the grove's sorrow
immensely old,
Dancing, they loom up from one black wall;
Banners of scarlet, laughter, insanity, trumpets ~ Georg Trakl

Beyond doubt, I am a splendid fellow. In the autumn, winter and spring, I execute the duties of a student of divinity; in the summer I disguise myself in my skin and become a lifeguard. My slightly narrow and gingerly hirsute but not necessarily unmanly chest becomes brown. My smooth back turns the colour of caramel, which, in conjunction with the whipped cream of my white pith helmet, gives me, some of my teenage satellites assure me, a delightfully edible appearance. My legs, which I myself can study, cocked as they are before me while I repose on my elevated wooden throne, are dyed a lustreless maple walnut that accentuates their articulate strength. Correspondingly, the hairs of my body are bleached blond, so that my legs have the pointed elegance of, within the flower, umber anthers dusted with pollen. ~ John Updike

Open brow and his fearless eyes. There were thousands like him all over the land of the maple. Let the Piper ~ L.M. Montgomery

It has now been many months, at the present writing, since I have had a nourishing meal, but I shall soon have one - a modest, private affair, all to myself. I have selected a few dishes, and made out a little bill of fare, which will go home in the steamer that precedes me, and be hot when I arrive - as follows:

Radishes. Baked apples, with cream
Fried oysters; stewed oysters. Frogs.
American coffee, with real cream.
American butter.
Fried chicken, Southern style.
Porter-house steak.
Saratoga potatoes.
Broiled chicken, American style.
Hot biscuits, Southern style.
Hot wheat-bread, Southern style.
Hot buckwheat cakes.
American toast. Clear maple syrup.
Virginia bacon, broiled.
Blue points, on the half shell.
Cherry-stone clams.
San Francisco mussels, steamed.
Oyster soup. Clam Soup.
Philadelphia Terapin soup.
Oysters roasted in shell-Northern style.
Soft-shell crabs. Connecticut shad.
Baltimore perch.
Brook trout, from Sierra Nevadas.
Lake trout, from Tahoe.
Sheep-head and croakers, from New Orleans.
Black bass from the Mississippi.
American roast beef.
Roast turkey, Thanksgiving style.
Cranberry sauce. Celery.
Roast wild turkey. Woodcock.
Canvas-back-duck, from Baltimore.
Prairie liens, from Illinois.
Missouri partridges, broiled.
'Possum. Coon.
Boston bacon and beans.
Bacon and greens, Southern s ~ Mark Twain

In New York and New England the sap starts up in the sugar maple the very day the bluebird arrives, and sugar-making begins forthwith. The bird is generally a mere disembodied voice; a rumor in the air for two or three days before it takes visible shape before you. ~ John Burroughs

Take it from this Lanark County kid - you won't find any better, more flavourful syrup, than from the Maple Syrup Capital of Ontario ~ Arlene Stafford-Wilson