Soy Milk Quotes

An interesting thing happened today," she said, giving me just enough time to get the word "hi" out of my mouth. "I opened the front door and there was a man on my doorstep. A big man. A very big, very black man."

"Rachel - "

"You said it would be discreet. His T–shirt had the words 'Klan Killer' written on the front."

"I - "

"And do you know what he said?"

I waited.

"He handed me a note from Louis and told me he was lactose intolerant. That was it. Note. Lactose intolerant. Nothing else. He's coming to the reading with me. It was all I could do to get him to change his T–shirt. The new one reads 'Black Death.' I'm going to tell people it's a rap band. Do you think it's a rap band?"

I figured it was probably his occupation, but I didn't say that. Instead, I said the only thing I could think of to say.

"Maybe you'd better buy some soy milk."

She hung up without saying good–bye. ~ John Connolly

I do not permit blasphemy, the F-word, or obscenities such as soy milk at my table. Consider yourself chastised. ~ Dean Koontz

Soy milk and two sugars." Just this past week, Rachel had become convinced that how people took their coffee gave some secret insight into their characters. Were people who took their coffee black unyielding? Did people who liked their coffee with milk and no sugar have mother issues? She had a notebook behind the coffee counter in which she wrote her findings. Willa decided to keep her on her toes by making up a different request every day.
Rachel walked back to the coffee bar to write that down in her notebook. "Hmm, interesting," she said seriously, as if it made all the sense in the world, as if she'd finally figured Willa out.
"You don't believe in ghosts, but you do believe that how I take my coffee says something about my personality?"
"That's superstition. This is science. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

Cafés overflowed anytime but early mornings, for there were few commuters in the neighborhood at that time. After noon, the self-employed, or unemployed, hipsters set up their laptops, soy milk lattes by their side, and proceeded to create ironic and subversive works of art, pausing every so often to brood. ~ Phoebe Damrosch

He made a face. "Soy milk. Ugh. Tastes like jizz."
I gave him a curious look. "And how do you know that?"
"I have bad aim sometimes," he said. ~ Karina Halle

I can't be sure, of course, but I'd compare it to living on tofu and soy milk; we call ourselves vegetarians, our little inside joke. - Edward Cullen ~ Stephenie Meyer

There's no such thing as soy milk. It's soy juice. ~ Lewis Black

This morning, Ray Bradbury is dead
and there is only soy milk at my coffee shop.

I do not know which to be more sad about,
that my body and I are suddenly uncomfortable
or that a man I have never met, far away,
has stopped breathing.

My heartbeat
will end one day.
It is a miracle it's lasted this long,
not because I have wished it otherwise,
but because my car keeps overheating.

My car is huge
compared to my heart.

A writing prompt,
given to me on a bicycle ride last week:
"What is the most dangerous thing you've done lately,
and why?"

I climbed the Pillsbury building,
because I wanted to, because I could,
or because I was bored, or because I know how,
because I know that wearing dark blue at night
makes you look like a cloud.

Ray Bradbury's heart is not beating anymore.

The Pillsbury building is so big
compared to his heart,

but this morning he is dead
and there is only soy milk at my coffee shop. ~ Lewis Mundt

In Hollywood a marriage is a success if it outlasts milk. ~ Rita Rudner

As I am writing, another illustration of ye generation of hills proposed above comes into my mind. Milk is as uniform a liquor as ye chaos was. If beer be poured into it & ye mixture let stand till it be dry, the surface of ye curdled substance will appear as rugged & mountanous as the Earth in any place. ~ Isaac Newton

No use crying over spilled milk. ~ Francesca Marciano

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew there was milk and toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too. ~ Joni Mitchell

There's no reason to drink cow's milk at any time in your life. It was designed for calves, not humans, and we should all stop drinking it today. ~ Frank Oski

A small girl became increasingly paralysed by her parents' frequently violent rows.
Sometimes she would spend hours standing completely still in the toilet, simply
because that was where she happened to be when the fight began.
Finally, in moments of calm, she would take bottles of milk from the fridge or
doorstep and leave them in places where she may later become trapped. Her
parents were unable to understand why they found bottles of sour milk in every
room in the house. ~ Sarah Kane

When we are going to enter the water ... in the presence of the congregation and under the hand of the president, we solemnly profess that we disown the devil, his pomp, and his angels. After this we are immersed three times, making a somewhat larger pledge than the Lord appointed in the Gospel. Then we are taken up [a reference to the Roman tradition of recognizing a newborn baby as a member of the family]. We first taste a mixture of milk and honey and from that day we refrain from the daily bath for a whole week. ~ Tertullian

Breastfeeding is a beautiful thing, one of the most beautiful things that exist in nature. Think about how a woman can literally feed her baby with her body! In my eyes, this is a certain form of beauty, of divinity! To know that my body can not only form and bring another human being into the world, but that I can actually feed babies with my own milk from my own breasts - that puts me in a state of awe each time I think about it. It is an honour to be a woman. ~ C. JoyBell C.

Ireland, in breadth, and for wholesomeness and serenity of climate, far surpasses Britain; for the snow scarcely ever lies there above three days: no man makes hay in the summer for winter's provision, or builds stables for his beasts of burden ... the island abounds in milk and honey. ~ Venerable Bede

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.

We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not. ~ Seamus Heaney

It is 1908.

The stars shone above in the night sky as a steamship floated among the clouds.

It's captain, Captain Otra, looked at his watch. He was ahead of his delivery schedule by 30 minutes to deliver the British Government it's much-needed order of concentrated milk and goat cheese from the shores of New Zealand.

He had inherited the business from his wife's father. His wife had passed roughly 5 years ago.

His daughter Lux Otra was tinkering for the hundredth time on her grandfather's sky faring compass, taking it apart and putting it back together. Each time she fixed, the compass worked perfectly again. Memorizing these intricate steps would give her a temporary satisfaction but now she couldn't do it anymore. She set the compass down and sighed in frustration. ~ Bellatuscana

[Didn't Sappho say her guts clutched up like this?]"

Didn't Sappho say her guts clutched up like this?
Before a face suddenly numinous,
her eyes watered, knees melted. Did she lactate
again, milk brought down by a girl's kiss?
It's documented torrents are unloosed
by such events as recently produced
not the wish, but the need, to consume, in us,
one pint of Maalox, one of Kaopectate.
My eyes and groin are permanently swollen,
I'm alternatingly brilliant and witless
- and sleepless: bed is just a swamp to roll in.
Although I'd cream my jeans touching your breast,
sweetheart, it isn't lust; it's all the rest
of what I want with you that scares me shitless. ~ Marilyn Hacker

Milk is for babies. Human beings are the only species that drinks milk into adulthood and besides that we prefer to drink the milk of another species (enslaved cows and goats), and we have come to consider it normal when, it is actually a pretty perverse form of sexual abuse! ~ Sharon Gannon

People in my constituency are starving and born with sixteen fingers. Did you ever eat weasel shish-kebob? Freddy doesn't walk by the side of the motorways to gather dandelions for his salad, but the people who sent me here do. Why are we supporting him? He doesn't deserve it. The Tories won't give milk to children who go to school hungry and come home to baked cat. ~ Mark Helprin

--'What did Mum want?'
--'She said not to give away the milk for free.'
--'You're not livestock. Go out with me?'
--Not two sentences I've ever heard used together before. ~ Emily Evans

And when all of the flourless chocolate cakes & chocolate mousse or ganache cakes have come and gone, there will still be nothing like a fudgy brownie, dry & crackled on top, moist & dense within, with a glass of cold milk. ~ Richard Sax

Ah, Milk Duds. The official candy of pissed-off fat women everywhere ~ Susan Donovan

I make an awesome soup with coconut milk and shrimps; it takes me five hours to prepare the whole thing. It does become very spicy, but you can definitely taste all the ingredients. ~ Mads Mikkelsen

Intimacy

The woman in the cafe making my cappuccino - dark eyes, dyed
red hair,
sleeveless black turtleneck - used to be lovers with the man I'm
seeing now.
She doesn't know me; we're strangers, but still I can't glance at her
casually, as I used to, before I knew. She stands at the machine,
sinking the nozzle
into a froth of milk, staring at nothing - I don't know what she's
thinking.
For all I know she might be remembering my lover, remembering
whatever happened
between them - he's never told me, except to say that it wasn't
important, and then
he changed the subject quickly, too quickly now that I think about
it; might he,
after all, have been lying, didn't an expression of pain cross his
face for just
and instant? I can't be sure. And really it was nothing, I tell myself;
there's no reason for me to feel awkward standing here, or
complicitous,
as though there's something significant between us.
She could be thinking of anything; why, now, do I have the sudden
suspicion
that she knows, that she feels me studying her, trying to imagine
them together? -
her lipstick's dark red, darker than her hair - trying to see him
kissing her, turning her over in bed
the way he likes to have me. I wonder if maybe
there were things about her he preferred, things he misses now
that we're together;
sometim ~ Kim Addonizio

It wasn't the best view of the landscape around their buried bunker, but it wasn't the worst, either. In the distance, low rolling hills stood, a pretty shade of brown, like coffee mash with just the right amount of pig's milk in it. The sky above the hills was the same dull gray of his childhood and his father's childhood and his grandfather's childhood. The only moving feature on the landscape was the clouds. They hung full and dark over the hills. They roamed free like the herded beasts from the picture books. ~ Hugh Howey

Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water! Ye happy mixture of more happy days! ~ Lord Byron

This is what love does and continues to do. It tastes like honey to adults and milk to children. ~ Rumi

The greenish sky glows up in misty reds, The purple shadows turn to brick and stone,The dreams wear thin, men turn upon their beds, And hear the milk-cart jangle by alone. ~ Sara Teasdale

I feel like a cup of tea with no milk. I just had one. It was disgusting. ~ Paul Colman

The Fear of Burial
In the empty field, in the morning,
the body waits to be claimed.
The spirit sits beside it, on a small rock
nothing comes to give it form again.
Think of the body's loneliness.
At night pacing the sheared field,
its shadow buckled tightly around.
Such a long journey.
And already the remote, trembling lights of the village
not pausing for it as they scan the rows.
How far away they seem,
the wooden doors, the bread and milk
laid like weights on the table. ~ Louise Gluck

I just could not stand the idea of eating meat - I really do think that it has made me calmer ... People's general awareness is getting much better, even down to buying a pint of milk: the fact that the calves are actually killed so that the milk doesn't go to them but to us cannot really be right, and if you have seen a cow in a state of extreme distress because it cannot understand why its calf isn't by, it can make you think a lot. ~ Kate Bush

When the bad time begins, you may feel alone, because your mind never goes with you. Even your shadow leaves you, then what to say about friends? In this world it is very difficult to get true friend. Cause most of the time people come to you as friend with some great need inside them. They remain with you until their needs. When neediness is over they leave you, whatever your condition is or where ever you stuck in. They leave you when you need them. They leave you when you are in danger. They only remain with you for the happy hours. When the happy hour is over they fly away like a fly when milk is not in the bowl. These words everybody knows, "Friend in need, friends indeed.". ~ Salman Aziz

I can safely say that other than macaroni and cheese, there's no processed food in my life. There's no inorganic food in my life these days. There's no junk food. There's not a lot of sugar. There's no soy. I mean, really everything that's going into my body is pretty pure. ~ Ginnifer Goodwin

Every morning she pulled a delicate cup from its brass hook and filled it, hoping that it would be dark and deep and secret as a forest, and each morning it cooled too fast, had too much milk, stained the cup, made her nervous. ~ Catherynne M Valente

First of all, skim? That's white water. That's all skim milk is: they take out all the wonderful stuff that makes milk taste like milk and replace it with white water and people actually drink that shit. ~ MaryJanice Davidson

I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands.
In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign her newborn.
Baby, drink milk.
Baby, play ball.
And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby come hug, fluent now in the language of grief. ~ Amy Hempel

Children have two basic needs, writes Erich Fromm in the Art of Loving: they need both milk and honey from their parents. Milk symbolizes the care given to physical needs ... Honey symbolizes the sweetness of life, that special quality that makes life sing with enjoyment for all it holds. Gromm says, "Most parents are capable of giving milk, but only a minority of giving honey, too." To give honey, one must love honey and have it to give. ~ Gladys M. Hunt

Don't you feel as though you could love everything starting tomorrow, and everything could love you, if only you took an action to set into motion the coming of our new tomorrow and its tomorrow and that one's tomorrow? Shotgun loaded hand on the pump and no matter who you damage you're still a false prophet, but we drink chocolate milk and then we get muscles and smash down the droves with fists like hammers and then we pump the fists in the air for victory. I be the prophet of the doom that is you. You are the mess in messiah. ~ Adam Levin

- Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position? - c'est le pigeon, Joseph. Patrice, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me in the bar MacMahon. Son of the wild goose, Kevin Egan of Paris. My father's a bird, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. Lap, lapin. He hopes to win in the gros lots. About the nature of women he read in Michelet. But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. Lent it to his friend. - C'est tordant, vous savez. Moi, je suis socialiste. Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. Faut pas le dire a mon p-re. - Il croit? - Mon pere, oui. ~ James Joyce