Remixing Pickle Quotes

I've called myself the Pied Piper, I've called myself the Weatherman, I've called myself Kellz, I've called myself a lot of things, changing the name, switching it up, just flipping, remixing. But never to harm anybody. Never to make a deep statement for people to dig into and figure it out. ~ R. Kelly

Clair put down her knife and pickle, then wiped her hands. As she came toward Clay she pulled a large bobby pin from the back of her hair, and her long, thick locks cascaded down her back. She took Clay's right hand and kissed each of his fingertips, licked his thumb, then took his index finger in her mouth and made a show of removing it slowly and with maximum moisture. Clay looked at the floor, shaking. "Baby," she said as she placed the bobby pin firmly between Clay's wet thumb and index finger, "I need you to go over to that wall and take this bobby pin and insert it ever so firmly into that electrical outlet over there." Clay looked up at her at last. "Because," she continued, "I know that you aren't mad at me and that you're just grieving for your friends, but I think you need to be reminded that you aren't invulnerable and that you can hurt even more than you do now. ~ Christopher Moore

Dude, if Kentucky is going to remind you of Paris, we're in a hell of a pickle. ~ John Green

A fine pickle we are in." "A fine pickle? An Americanism?" "Yes. Ten years there and my language is polluted. ~ Kristen Callihan

Coming from New York, I know that if you go by a delicatessen, and you put a sweet cucumber in the vinegar barrel, the cucumber might say, "No, I want to retain my sweetness." But it's hopeless. The barrel will turn the sweet cucumber into a pickle. You can't be a sweet cucumber in a vinegar barrel. ~ Philip Zimbardo

You can't run the economy on BMWs alone. If the average person is in a pickle, how do you have a healthy economy? ~ Jeremy Grantham

The man read Eugene O'Neill on the beach. He had a stash of emergency pickle juice and a pet rat. He was hardly a model of stability. ~ J.A. Rock

Obediently, I squash into a corner with a glass of cider. A chalkboard menu declares that the special of the day is stargazy pie. I gulp my drink, envisaging withered fish heads gazing plaintively at the ceiling. In the end, I'm presented with a cheese and pickle sandwich the size of my head and a pile of crisps. ~ Laura Madeleine

Ralph Waldo Pickle Chips! I don't know him. ~ Breehn Burns

Most of the time, if I'm in a pickle, I'll call one of my brothers. They've usually got somewhat uplifting advice. One is six and a half years older and one is eight years older, so they've probably lived through whatever my problem is. ~ Liam Hemsworth

What say you? Hence,
Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes
Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head:
Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,
Smarting in lingering pickle. ~ William Shakespeare

I can read in red.
I can read in blue.
I can read in pickle color too. ~ Dr. Seuss

Uncle Jeb," we croaked in surprise. "You found us."
"Well, now," he said, and his gruff voice brought back a hundred memories. "Well, now, here's a pickle. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Hunger is the best pickle. ~ Benjamin Franklin

Ickle me, pickle me, tickle me too
never returned to the world they knew
and nobody knows what happened to
dear ickle me, pickle me, tickle me too ~ Shel Silverstein

Anwen uncrossed her arms, adjusted her skirt. She glanced from me to Watson. "If it's not an imposition," she said. "You can come too, Jamie. If you want."
At that, I pinched his leg.
"No!" he yelped. "No, go on. I, ah. Have a lecture."
"Are you sure?" I ask him, sniffling.
"I'm sure," he said, and reached out, very gently, to brush away a tear from my face. His dark eyes softened. He really was a better actor than I gave him credit for. "I'll see you later, pumpkin."
As I led Anwen out to the street, I texted from my bag:
Watson?
Yes, pumpkin?
New condition: you cease and desist all gourd-related nicknames.
Done. But pinch me again, and I'll start calling you pickle.
Do that, and I will find and them publish your diaries in a website with a vociferous comments section. Thought I was not a gourd, I was most definitely not a vinegar-soaked phallic object. ~ Brittany Cavallaro

And there will be no waste, I promise you," he went on, waving his finger in the air as he got into his stride.
"You see, the trouble with the professor is that, once he stops for lunch, he tends to lose interest. He drinks a good deal, you know," he confided. "What's left over gets thrown away or gnawed by rats in the basement. Whereas I will pickle you ... "
"I beg your pardon?" Prestcott said weakly.
"Pickle you," Lower replied enthusiastically. "It is the very latest technique. If we joint you and pop you into a vat of spirits, you will keep for very much longer. ~ Iain Pears

More than a food, the pickle was a kind of drug for tenement children, who were still too young for whiskey. ~ Jane Ziegelman

What could be more general than 2, which can represent two galaxies or two pickles, or one galaxy plus one pickle (the mind doth boggle), or just 2 gently bobbing - where? It, like God, is an "I am" and many have thought that it must be a precipitate of ultimate reality. ~ Alfred W. Crosby

So," Marasi said, "you traded a dead man's scarf for another dead man's gun. But ... the gun itself belonged to someone dead, so by the same logic - "
"Don't try," Waxillium said. "Logic doesn't work on Wayne."
"I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller," Wayne explained. "It lets me add two 'n' two and get a pickle. ~ Brandon Sanderson

In the last analysis, a pickle is a cucumber with experience. ~ Irena Chalmers

When ramps are in season, we pickle a bunch of ramps and fold that into soup. Pickled pearl onions are great chopped up or pureed. ~ Wylie Dufresne

There is a passage in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn where the main character, Francie, talks about when her diet of stale bread and potatoes begins to feel flat, she takes her allowance and buys a pickle. She works on that pickle all day, and relishes its sourness. Then the bread and potatoes taste good again. This Thanksgiving is our pickle. It has shaken our frame for Thanksgiving, what it means, how to think about it, and how to celebrate it. We had to let go of some things we always do, and in doing so, the things we've kept felt all the more special. ~ Michelle Damiani

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

Vodka at night. Pickle juice in the morning (the best thing for a hangover). Throwing some kettlebells around between this hangover and the next one. A Russian's day well spent. The 'kettlebell' or girya is a cast iron weight which looks like a basketball with a suitcase handle. It is an old Russian toy. As the 1986 Soviet Weightlifting Yearbook put it, "It is hard to find a sport that has deeper roots in the ~ Pavel Tsatsouline

The outstanding event was the doing which I am still at. Don't pickle me awayas done. ~ Emily Carr

I like a cheese and pickle. Nice cheese and pickle on a real old-fashioned bread. Ploughman's lunch. ~ Gary Oldman

pickle juice on a cookie. ~ Julie Sternberg

Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning? ~ Sylvia Plath

…be awake to the Life
that is loving you and
sing your prayer, laugh your prayer,
dance your prayer, run
and weep and sweat your prayer,
sleep your prayer, eat your prayer,
paint, sculpt, hammer, and read your prayer,
sweep, dig, rake, drive and hoe your prayer,
garden and farm and build and clean your prayer,
wash, iron, vacuum, sew, embroider and pickle your prayer,
compute, touch, bend and fold but never delete
or mutilate your prayer.

Learn and play your prayer,
work and rest your prayer,
fast and feast your prayer,
argue, talk, whisper, listen and shout your prayer,
groan and moan and spit and sneeze your prayer,
swim and hunt and cook your prayer,
digest and become your prayer,
release and recover your prayer,
breathe your prayer,
be your prayer ~ Alla Renée Bozarth

If you have ever opened a can of worms, boxed yourself into a corner, ended up in hot water, or found yourself in a pretty pickle, you already know that life is rarely (if ever) just a bowl of cherries. ~ Maryrose Wood

Tried to head in the general direction of the bathroom/
The truest room in the whole damn house. ~ Regina Spektor

Symbolic value of the pickling process: all the six hundred million eggs which gave birth to the population of India could fit inside a single, standard-sized pickle-jar; six hundred million spermatozoa could be lifted on a single spoon. Every pickle-jar (you will forgive me if I become florid for a moment) contains, therefore, the most exalted of possibilities: the feasibility of the chutnification of history; the grand hope of the pickling of time! ~ Salman Rushdie

I am overweight. But to me, it's fat. I don't have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. When I look in the mirror I don't plunge into a depression and stick my finger down my throat or carve FAT in my arm with a pickle fork. I can appreciate when I look good aside from the weight. Sometimes I might say, Oh, I'm having a good face day.And a few times, after checking my appearance in the mirror before a date, I'd say, Okay. I'd date me. And I know if I ever could get the extra tonnage off, I'd be the first one to parade around in my underwear, or have no qualms about getting naked with a hottie, while the lights were still on in the room. ~ Kelli Jae Baeli

A pickle a day keeps the stalker away. ~ Ananymous

Poor Mr. Zum now he was un-fun and had no funs left who wanted to entertain him. What a qerbackle, what an un-fun pickle to be in. ~ Coco J. Ginger

Jonah Pickett was like snow days, field trips, candy stores, and Christmas Eve all blended into one big swoosh of a feeling -Felicity Pickle ~ Natalie Lloyd

I don't want no pickle. Just want to ride my motorcycle. ~ Bob Dylan

What Vera doesn't know is: I'd kill to be a pickle on her Big Mac - ground to relish between her perfect white teeth.
I'd kill to be a bug she squishes with her holey Army-issue combat boot.
But she's too good for me. She always was. ~ A.S. King

Are you smarter than my brain in a jar? Have a pickle while you ponder it. ~ Jarod Kintz

Brrrrrr. Like a lady had handed me a pickle jar that I simply couldn't open, and I wasn't a man anymore. ~ Tommy Walker

Pickles are people too ~ Clayton

She [Mary Maclane] is almost always referred to as "confessional." She has been referred to, several times, as the first blogger. Whereas her writing does not confess much - it is much more spiritual memoir than anything, or perhaps something akin to a mystic's courtly love, directed at the self. I am wondering what distinguishes writing as confessional…

I keep on feeling I prefer the latter-day MacLane, the diary she wrote while convalescing from scarlet fever back home in Butte, Montana, I, Mary MacLane, that Melville House is only publishing as an ebook. Mary MacLane melancholy, totally isolated. Feeling intense disquiet. Now in her early thirties, meditating on her whirlwind celebrity, in cities, feeling distanced from all that, but longing for it too. Obsessed with the Mary MacLane who stopped writing, or stopped publishing books, who was involved with the anarchist/bohemian crowd in Chicago, with the Dill Pickle, who died in poverty and obscurity on the South Side at the age of 48. I want to write about her, but I don't know how or why yet. ~ Kate Zambreno