Tesco Quotes

Take the famous slogan on the atheist bus in London … "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life." … The word that offends against realism here is "enjoy." I'm sorry - enjoy your life? Enjoy your life? I'm not making some kind of neo-puritan objection to enjoyment. Enjoyment is lovely. Enjoyment is great. The more enjoyment the better. But enjoyment is one emotion … Only sometimes, when you're being lucky, will you stand in a relationship to what's happening to you where you'll gaze at it with warm, approving satisfaction. The rest of the time, you'll be busy feeling hope, boredom, curiosity, anxiety, irritation, fear, joy, bewilderment, hate, tenderness, despair, relief, exhaustion … This really is a bizarre category error.
But not necessarily an innocent one … The implication of the bus slogan is that enjoyment would be your natural state if you weren't being "worried" by us believer … Take away the malignant threat of God-talk, and you would revert to continuous pleasure, under cloudless skies. What's so wrong with this, apart from it being total bollocks?
… Suppose, as the atheist bus goes by, that you are the fifty-something woman with the Tesco bags, trudging home to find out whether your dementing lover has smeared the walls of the flat with her own shit again. Yesterday when she did it, you hit her, and she mewled till her face was a mess of tears and mucus which you also had to clean up. The only thing that would ease the weight on you ~ Francis Spufford

We think we have to work because the advertising industry has elevated wants into needs. The newspapers and the television batter us incessantly with the latest 'must-haves', whether that's shoes, videogames or patio heaters. As a result, mums think they 'have' to work at Tesco in order to buy expensive trainers. ~ Tom Hodgkinson

Then he reached to an even higher shelf and brought down another plastic grocery bag, this one from Tesco, which is decidedly less upscale. "Now, a smell is going to hit you when I open this up, but don't worry," he said. "It's just the smoke they used to preserve the head." That's a phrase you don't hear too often, so it took a moment for it to sink in. ~ David Sedaris

Crazy how so many British people can walk into Tesco, see 30 self-service checkouts, and still believe that it's immigrants who are taking all the jobs. ~ Fuad Alakbarov

Dear Lily
Don't think me silly,
but I forget what time you said.
Are we meeting at two thirty?
It's gone right from my head.
Did you say Monday or Thursday?
I have quite forgotten what day.
Was it late lunch, or afternoon tea?
Tell me, what did you say?
I think I would like to do Tuesday.
Let's go for a lovely lunch.
Or, if you prefer we could even
go early, and settle for brunch.
A lovely Bistro or Cafe Bar,
or maybe a country pub.
I don't really mind that much,
as long as we get some grub.

Dear Maisie,
Are you going crazy?
We didn't set a date.
You needed to check your diary.
I think you are losing it, mate.
But since you are free on Tuesday,
and that day suits me fine.
Could we meet, about twelve…ish?
Its early I like to dine.
You mentioned the pub, or Bistro,
or some fancy Cafe Bar.
Not sure I like the sound of that,
and I'm not coming in the car.
If the weather is bright and sunny,
we could always dine al fresco.
Failing that, we could just go
get a cake and a cuppa in Tesco. ~ Mrs A. Perry

I think that prosecuting some college kid because she shared a file is a lot like sending somebody to Australia 200 years ago for poaching his lordship's rabbit. That's how it must seem to poor people who just want to watch a crappy movie for free after they've been working themselves to death all day at Tesco or whatever, you know. ~ Iggy Pop

I don't know if you have ever tried to read Moby-Dick on a DS in a Tesco car park - I doubt you have - but I cannot recommend it. The two miniature screens, so in harmony with the escapades of Super Mario and Lego Batman, do not lend themselves to the study of this arcane, eldritch text; and nor does the constant clamor of a small boy in the back seat asking when he can have his DS back. ~ Andy Miller

Everyone assumes it is just 'Wendy who works at Tesco' who goes to audition for 'X Factor,' and then their lives are changed, wham, like that. Me, I am someone who has tried for years in the music industry. ~ Fleur East

You guys used to walk through graveyards?" Iona asked, horrified.
"It cut at least ten minutes off the walk to Tesco," Harriet tried to reason.
"I am so glad I go to Uni in the city," Iona said, shaking her head. "A Tesco Metro on every second corner."
"And a Sainsbury's Local on all the others," Adam joked. ~ Erin Lawless

...what goes on inside believers is mysterious. So far as it can be guessed at - if for some reason you wanted to guess at it - it appears to be a kind of anxious pretending, a kind of continual, nervous resistance to reality. It looks as if, to a believer, things can never be allowed just to be what they are. They always have to be translated, moralised - given an unnecessary and rather sentimental extra meaning. A sunset can't just be part of the mixed magnificence and cruelty and indifference of the world; it has to be a blessing. A meal has to be a present you're grateful for, even if it came from Tesco and the ingredients cost you £7.38. Sex can't be the spectrum of experiences you get used to as an adult, from occasional earthquake through to mild companionable buzz; it has to be, oh dear oh dear, a special thing that happens when mummies and daddies love each other very much...

Our fingers must be in our ears all the time - lalala, I can't hear you - just to keep out the plain sound of the real world.

The funny thing is that to me it's exactly the other way around. In my experience, it's belief that involves the most uncompromising attention to the nature of things of which you are capable. It's belief which demands that you dispense with illusion after illusion, while contemporary common sense requires continual, fluffy pretending. Pretending that might as well be systematic, it's so thoroughly incentivised by our culture. ~ Francis Spufford

In this country faith is absolute and universal. The choice, if there is a choice, is made at birth. Everyone believes. For these people, God is a near neighbour.
I thought of Sundays at home when I was a child, buttoned up in an uncomfortable tweed jacket and forced to go to Sunday communion. I remember mouthing the hymns without really singing, peering between my fingers at the rest of the congregation when I was supposed to be praying, twisting in my seat during the sermon, aching with impatience for the whole boring ritual to be over.
I can't remember when I last went to church. I must have been since Mary and I were married but I can't remember when. I don't know anyone who does go to church now. It's extraordinary, isn't it? I know I live amongst scientists and civil servants, and Mary's friends are all bankers or economists, so perhaps we are not typical. You still see people coming out of church on Sunday morning, chatting on the steps, shaking hands with the vicar, as you drive past on your way to get the Sunday papers, relieved you are too old now to be told to go. But no one I know goes any more. We never talk about it. We never think about it. I cannot easily remember the words of the Lord's Prayer.
We have moved on from religion.
Instead of going to church, which would never occur to us, Mary and I go to Tesco together on Sundays. At least, that is what we did when she still lived in London. We never have time to shop during the week and Satur ~ Paul Torday

Mental illness can happen to anybody. You can be a dustman, a politician, a Tesco worker ... anyone. It could be your dad, your brother or your aunt. ~ Frank Bruno

There is no reason why the Louvre should be your favourite gallery just because it has the grandest collections in France, any more than Kew should necessarily be a favourite garden because it has the largest assemblage of plants, or Tesco your chosen shop because it has the widest variety of canned beans. ~ Jim Crace