Schats Bakery Quotes

Sulphuric acid was added to vinegar for extra sharpness, chalk to milk, turpentine to gin. Arsenite of copper was used to make vegetables greener or to make jellies glisten. Lead chromate gave bakery products a golden glow and brought radiance to mustard. Lead acetate was added to drinks as a sweetener, and red lead somehow made Gloucester cheese lovelier to behold, if not safer to eat. There was hardly a foodstuff, it seems, that couldn't be improved or made more economical to the retailer through a little deceptive manipulation. ~ Bill Bryson

My mother worked as a saleslady at the well-known Five Corner bakery in Journal Square during the day. Her orders were that I do at least one page of homework for every one of my subjects before she came home. It didn't matter what my teachers would assign, those were her rules and I didn't dare to violate them! However, I usually allowed others to make the rules and then decide whether I would follow them. Turning on our small Bakelite radio, I would ignore my mother's rules and listen to my favorite adventure shows.
"Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy, Superman, who could leap tall buildings in a single bound, and Tom Mix were my favorite daily half-hour radio programs during the week. Tom Mix was forever solving some mystery that I could help him with, since I had a decoder badge that cost only 10 cents, along with a box top from a Ralston Purina's "Wheat Chex" cereal box. Since it tasted like straw, wanting to get a decoder badge was the only way I would eat this blah cereal for breakfast.
The radio shows were way too exciting, and my homework always took second place. When my mother finally came home and saw that I had not done my work, she would get quite upset and make me do twice as much, seated at the kitchen table where she could keep her eye on me. Being under her direct supervision wasn't much fun, but I would sit there until she was satisfied that I had finished my assignments. My mother showed no mercy! If my father found out about my being lax, ther ~ Hank Bracker

Michael held out his hand, and Kaden squeezed tighter than a typical handshake. The other man wiggled his hand free and then shot him an irritated glare.
So, this was the human trying to steal his Annabelle? He didn't look like much - a bit too skinny. She needed a man who could put his arms around her and make her feel safe.
Annabelle's my friend. I have no right to think of her as mine.
His heart pulsed a second time, and he startled. This wasn't happening. Annabelle couldn't be his? A human mate? He didn't understand. Two heartbeats. It had to mean something. ~ Stacey O'Neale

Have you ever played Killer Bunnies?" she asked.
"Killer Bunnies?" he repeated, blinking the way people always did when they didn't follow her brain's train.
"It's a card game. Not spades and clubs, kings and jacks cards. It's like a board game, with cards instead of a board. Here. I'll show you." She stretched up to the top shelf beside her TV and pulled down a bright blue box. "But I have to warn you, I never hesitate to use the nuclear warheads or the anti-matter raisins. Your bunnies are going down. ~ Jamie Farrell

Sex was absolutely not allowed to be scheduled, at least not by explicit discussion, but I had become familiar with the sequence of events likely to precipitate it: a blueberry muffin from Blue Sky Bakery, a triple shot of espresso from Otha's, removal of my shirt, and my impersonation of Gregory Peck in the role of Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. ~ Graeme Simsion

Whenever you give up an apartment in New York and move to another city, New York turns into the worst version of itself. Someone I know once wisely said that the expression "It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there" is completely wrong where New York is concerned; the opposite is true. New York is a very livable city. But when you move away and become a vistor, the city seems to turn against you. It's much more expensive (because you need to eat all your meals out and pay for a place to sleep) and much more unfriendly. Things change in New York; things change all the time. You don't mind this when you live here; when you live here, it's part of the caffeinated romance to this city that never sleeps. But when you move away, your experience change as a betrayal. You walk up Third Avenue planning to buy a brownie at a bakery you've always been loyal to, and the bakery's gone. Your dry cleaner move to Florida; your dentist retires; the lady who made the pies on West Fourth Street vanishes; the maitre d' at P.J. Clarke's quits, and you realize you're going to have to start from scratch tipping your way into the heart of the cold, chic young woman now at the down. You've turned your back from only a moment, and suddenly everything's different. You were an insider, a native, a subway traveler, a purveyor of inside tips into the good stuff, and now you're just another frequent flyer, stuck in a taxi on Grand Central Parkway as you wing in and out of La Guardia. M ~ Nora Ephron

Right on time, sugar." Josh draped his arm around her shoulders and steered her through the lobby. "Traffic okay?"
"Yeah, except when that alien spaceship landed on I-90 and then all those crickets jumped out to perform Beethoven's Fifth on kazoos. Otherwise, clear sailing. ~ Jamie Farrell

Pastries are a baker's remedy for all ills. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

As they made their way from the small marina across the campsite and through the town gate to the bakery, an orc came toward them carrying an armful of baguettes. It was accompanied by an elf dressed up as Legolas, its eyes glued to its iPhone. ~ Nina George

You have a great shift." I tell him. "I'll see you around. It's a good thing we're not friends, or else maybe I'd miss you. Or something more than friends-it's a good thing we weren't going out, or I'd be gutted right now. But, you know, we're not. Going out. Obviously. It's so obvious. I'm not sure why I didn't get the memo on that. Maybe it was all the phone sex, addling my stupid female brain. Or, hell, maybe it was all those hours we spent at the bakery, hanging out, or that time when I slept in your bed and cried on your lap on the bathroom floor. I just got confused about what we are. I didn't get the memo. ~ Robin York

Here it is. Let's say you're married, you love your wife, but you're attracted by another woman.'
'Excuse me, but I absolutely cannot understand how after eating my fill here I could go past a bakery and steal a roll. ~ Leo Tolstoy

You're doing this for Kimmie for free."
"I'd do anything for Kimmie."
"Including bury a body?"
"Especially bury a body. ~ Jamie Farrell

Frankly though, bud, your criteria for what constitutes a good date is kinda skewed, if you ask me. Homemade cookies are overrated man
trust me on this. You can find a decent bakery just about anywhere you go. ~ Susan Andersen

I just realized I know nothing about you. Do you have a family? Where are you from?" The idea that I just invited a relative stranger, who owns nothing, to live in my apartment gave me a stomachache, but the weird thing was that I felt like I had known him forever.

"I'm from Detroit; my entire family still lives there. My mom works in a bakery at a grocery store and my dad is a retired electrician. I have twelve brothers and sisters."

"Really? I'm an only child. I can't imagine having a huge family like that - it must have been awesome!"

Relaxing his stance, he leaned his tattooed forearm onto the dresser and crossed his feet. Jackson came over and sat next to him. Will unconsciously began petting Jackson's head. It made my heart warm. "Actually, I don't have twelve brothers and sisters. I have one brother and eleven sisters." He paused. "I'm dead serious. My brother Ray is the oldest and I'm the youngest with eleven girls in between. I swear my parents just wanted to give Ray a brother, so they kept having more babies. By the time I was born, Ray was sixteen and didn't give a shit. On top of it, they all have R names except me. It's a f**king joke."

"You're kidding? Name 'em," I demanded.

In a super-fast voice Will recited, "Raymond, Reina, Rachelle, Rae, Riley, Rianna, Reese, Regan, Remy, Regina, Ranielle, Rebecca, and then me, Will."

"Surely they could have figured out another R name?"

"Well my br ~ Renee Carlino

Everyone in my story has it's own character, GreenHollyWood cheeky, hypocritical and near to mad guy. A guy who really can't understand you and have very wrong conclusion so far I can say they are full of doubt.
John Barker, wow that's one of my favourite characters, he is the guy who always lies and always somebody is behind him, he works at the bakery, he tries to devastate a lot of stuff.
James Downder, the drunkard who knows probably he takes drugs or not, so far he is full of depression and so far the depression kills people.... ~ Deyth Banger

Cam placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's not too late."
A thick lump swelled in her throat. "I acted like an idiot."
"That's not a problem," he replied in a comforting tone. "He's been acting like an idiot for weeks now. ~ Stacey O'Neale

What are you doing back at the bakery?" I asked [Diesel]. "Did you know Wulf was here?" "No. I knew food was here. ~ Janet Evanovich

Why does everyone expect me to sugarcoat stuff? Do I look like a fucking bakery? I just tell it like it is, and she looks like shit. ~ Sophie Monroe

That's what spies do, right? They walk to the bakery and buy a loaf of bread everyday - perfectly normal - until one day they buy a loaf of uranium instead. ~ Robin Sloan

My favorite part was when my grandfather and I would make a special trip to Firpo's Bakery for red and green Christmas cookies and fruitcake studded with the sweetest cherries I've ever tasted. Usually Firpo's was too expensive for our slim budget, but Christmas mornings they gave a discount to any children who came in. ~ Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

I worked from 12 to 17, six years in a bakery. I was a pastry cook. ~ Adam Giles

You play beautifully," she told him, although the music was obscurely classical and, because there were no lyrics, unmemorable to her. But the compliment was like a drop of water on the dry wool of his face. His cheeks seemed to soften, color, even swell. "I hope it doesn't disturb you," he said. She held out her hand, the thin string of the bakery box looped around her wrist. "Not at all," she said, although three or four times now she had hung on her husband's arm to keep him from banging the broom handle against the ceiling. "We enjoy it," she said. And then, at a loss for a more substantial compliment, she added, "You must have some beautiful piano. ~ Alice McDermott

Heaven's Bakery help them all. ~ Jamie Farrell

What exactly do you think is going to happen to me in Redwood Ridge? A Halloween display falling on me? Blown over by the force of someone waving hello? No, no, I got it. I'll get diabetes after I'm forced to eat a cookie from the free sample display by the bakery. I hear sugar calling to me now. Dangerous stuff. ~ Kelly Moran

He was asking too many questions and he was asking them too quickly. They were stacking up in my head like loaves in the factory where Uncle Terry works. The factory is a bakery and he operates the slicing machines. And sometimes a slicer is not working fast enough but the bread keeps coming and there is a blockage. I sometimes think of my mind as a machine, but not always as a bread-slicing machine. It makes it easier to explain to other people what is going on inside it. ~ Mark Haddon

Echoing streets melt into dark autumn rooms - melt to black plastic bags inflated by the wind and spinning on playground blacktop like free-floating punctuation ... the horizon is just a line and past it there's only black dark ... that rolls toward her as she walks in its direction ... smooth-worn wooden chairs at the bakery where ella sits tea on the table in front of her, it's getting dark but the girl behind the counter hasn't turned on a single light yet ... Ella animal staring into the street: Did I ever touch him? ~ Michael Cisco

When you see a beautiful loaf of bread, slow down, appreciate it, enjoy it, then give yourself a chance to think! ~ Chris Geiger

A fake ring. A fake engagement. Fake love. Everything was fake. Shiny and put together on the outside, empty on the inside. ~ Jamie Farrell

Cities have always offered anonymity, variety, and conjunction, qualities best basked in by walking: one does not have to go into the bakery or the fortune-teller's, only to know that one might. A city always contains more than any inhabitant can know, and a great city always makes the unknown and the possible spurs to the imagination. ~ Rebecca Solnit

In 1949, Saul was thirteen. Never before had he seen his father cry. Suddenly, he realized that what he took to be his home - a two-bedroom apartment in a newly renovated brick building above Gertel's bakery - was to his father no more than a prop on someone else's stage, which could at any moment be struck and carried into the wings. In its absence, home was in the rhythm of the halakhah: the daily prayer, the weekly Sabbath, the annual holy days. In time was their culture. In time, not in space, was their home. ~ Chloe Benjamin

The mated males are biased. They want more females here for their own females. Many of the single males will likely have an issue, since it is tradition."
"Well if the single males want more females here, that's the only way to do it. They're only hurting themselves."
His fingers flexed slightly against hers. "Why do you think females would come here, anyway?"
"Why wouldn't they? I knew nothing about this sector and even after my tour I still don't know much about it. Maybe if there was an attraction here - other than the males - it would bring more females."
He straightened and pushed up so that his hands caged her against the headboard. "This facility puts out the best warriors and we do some of the most intense and covert off-world missions. We will not have attractions here like a… carnival."
She blinked, realizing he'd misunderstood her. Unable to stop herself, a giggle escaped.
She cupped the side of his face. Midnight black stubble already covered his jaw. She shivered, remembering the feel of it against her inner thighs not too long ago. "I didn't mean that kind of attraction. I mean, give the females an incentive, like luxury housing or the chance to run a business here. There are so many business opportunities here for women. So far I've only seen one clothing shop and one bakery run by females."
He was silent a long moment as he watched her. "I think I might be biased too."
"How so?"
"Because I want to change ~ Savannah Stuart

With the heady scent of yeast in the air, it quickly becomes clear that Langer's hasn't changed at all. The black-and-white-checked linoleum floor, the tin ceiling, the heavy brass cash register, all still here. The curved-front glass cases with their wood counter, filled with the same offerings: the butter cookies of various shapes and toppings, four kinds of rugelach, mandel bread, black-and-white cookies, and brilliant-yellow smiley face cookies. Cupcakes, chocolate or vanilla, with either chocolate or vanilla frosting piled on thick. Brownies, with or without nuts. Cheesecake squares. Coconut macaroons. Four kinds of Danish. The foil loaf pans of the bread pudding made from the day-old challahs. And on the glass shelves behind the counter, the breads. Challahs, round with raisins and braided either plain or with sesame. Rye, with and without caraway seeds. Onion kuchen, sort of strange almost-pizza-like bread that my dad loves, and the smaller, puffier onion rolls that I prefer. Cloverleaf rolls. Babkas. The wood-topped cafe tables with their white chairs, still filled with the little gossipy ladies from the neighborhood, who come in for their mandel bread and rugelach, for their Friday challah and Sunday babka, and take a moment to share a Danish or apple dumpling and brag about grandchildren. ~ Stacey Ballis

I wanted him to have all these things that Roderick could give him, but I
wanted him to have them with me. I wanted my cake, I wanted to eat it, I
wanted the bakery it was made in, and oh yeah, throw in the fucking baker
because I wanted him too. Hell, you better add in the baker's wife while
you're at it; I like breasts a lot. ~ Seth Kirkcauldy

My subject matter was a genuine sort of experience that came out of my life, particularly the American world in which I was privileged to be ... I would really think of the bakery counters, of the way the counter was lit, where the pies were placed, but I wanted just a piece of the experience. From when I worked in restaurants ... [it was] always poetic to me. ~ Wayne Thiebaud

Sonja used to say that Ove was "unforgiving." For instance, he refused to go back to the local bakery eight years after they gave him the wrong change when he bought pastries once at the end of the 1990s. Ove called it "having firm principles." They were never quite in agreement when it came to words and their meanings.
p. 239 ~ Fredrik Backman

A short while later, they were all covered in flour.
"Anna, do you have to use so much flour?" her mother asked, waving a cloud of dust away from her face.
"I hate when the cookies stick, Ma, you know that." Anna sifted more flour onto the wooden table that doubled as a workspace. She loved flour and she used it liberally, but it did make cleanup much harder.
The bakery wasn't large and it wasn't bright; the windows were high up, just below the ceiling eaves. Anna had to squint to see her measurements. Spoons and pots hung on the walls, and the large wooden table stood in the middle of the room, where Anna and her mom baked bread, cinnamon rolls, and Anna's famous cookies. The majority of the bakery was taken up by the cast-iron stove. It was as beautiful as it was functional, and Anna was constantly tripping over it- or falling into it, hence the small burn marks on her forearms. Those also came from paddling the bread into and out of the oven. Her parents said she was the best at knowing when the temperature of the stove was just right for baking the softest bread. Maybe she was a little messy when she baked, but it didn't bother her. ~ Jen Calonita

Was that the girl who went to Manhattan with you?" Asked Marcus. "I think we owe her a cookie" "I think we owe her a whole damn bakery" said Xochi. "If I wasn't hip deep on the mud, I would kiss her on the mouth ~ Dan Wells

When you celebrate, there is sure to be cake."
Florence Ditlow, in "The Bakery Girls. ~ Florence Ditlow

We would wake and have smoothies every morning with fresh whole-grain bread from the small bakery in town, then run and climb and take walks together, and catch up on e-mail in the evening before we went to bed and talk about food and music and life and death and meaning and love. We fell asleep to the rushing of the stream and the cool spring breeze wafting through the window. ~ Scott Jurek

Mom has the Touch. She knows what flowers go with what occasions, what hors d'oeuvres work with what people. She believes passionately in the power of food to heal, restore, and stimulate relationships, and she has built a following of loyal customers who really hope she's right. If she's wrong, says Sonia, no one wants to know. ~ Joan Bauer

One warm night four children stood in front of a bakery. No one knew them. No one knew where they had come from. ~ Gertrude Chandler Warner