The Cake Is A Lie Quotes

This is your fault. I'm going to kill you. And all the cake is gone.
You don't even care, do you? ~ J.K. Simmons

Under the mellowing influence of good food and good music, Adam relaxed, and I discovered that underneath that overbearing, hot-tempered Alpha disguise he usually wore was a charming, over-bearing, hot-tempered man. He seemed to enjoy finding out that I was as stubborn and disrespectful of authority as he'd always suspected.
He ordered dessert without consulting me. I'd have been angrier, but it was something I could never have ordered for myself: chocolate, caramel, nuts, ice cream, real whipped cream, and cake so rich it might as well have been a brownie.
"So," he said, as I finished the last bit, "I'm forgiven?"
"You are arrogant and overstep your bounds," I told him, pointing my clean fork at him.
"I try," he said with false modesty. Then his eyes darkened and he reached across the table and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. He watched me as he licked the caramel from his skin.
I thumped my hands down on the table and leaned forward. "That is not fair. I'll eat your dessert and like it - but you can't use sex to keep me from getting mad."
He laughed, one of those soft laughs that start in the belly and rise up through the chest: a relaxed, happy sort of laugh.
To change the subject, because matters were heating up faster than I was comfortable with, I said, "So Bran tells me that he ordered you to keep an eye out for me."
He stopped laughing and raised both eyebrows. "Yes. Now ask me if I was watching you for Bran."
It was a tr ~ Patricia Briggs

He's probably used to women throwing themselves at him or curling around his massive frame like a sloth in its favorite tree.
I'm closer to a sloth than I am a stripper. Give me a cozy pair of fuzzy pajamas or a onesie instead of a thong and deathtrap platform heels any night of the week. If I had to choose a vice, it would be sloth. Not lust.
Unless the lusting is after cake.
Or Ryan Reynolds.
Or Ryan Reynolds with cake. ~ Daisy Prescott

The film is made in the editing room. The shooting of the film is about shopping, almost. It's like going to get all the ingredients together, and you've got to make sure before you leave the store that you got all the ingredients. And then you take those ingredients and you can make a good cake - or not. ~ Philip Seymour Hoffman

This wrap! It's made of rice!
Now I get it... it's a variation on a Bánh Xèo!"
BÁNH XÈO
Literally meaning "Sizzling Cake," it is a Vietnamese rice-flour pancake.
The batter is made from rice flour, water, coconut milk and other ingredients and is then spread thinly and fried like a crepe.
Once cooked, ingredients like pork, shrimp, and bean sprouts are folded inside.
I see the concept behind this dish now!
It's mixing piping-hot rice with juicy fried chicken!
Fried chicken and rice have always been a golden combination.
Here they've recreated that in a form that's easy to eat on the go and just as delicious.
And they even managed to do it in an innovative and eye-catching way! ~ Yuto Tsukuda

He believed hunger to be the best appetizer, and because he waited until he was hungry or thirsty before he ate or drank, "he used to partake of a barley cake with greater pleasure than others did of the costliest of foods, and enjoyed a drink from a stream of running water more than others did their Thasian wine."6 When asked about his lack of an abode, Diogenes would reply that he had access to the greatest houses in every city - to their temples and gymnasia, that is. And when asked what he had learned from philosophy, Diogenes replied, "To be prepared for every fortune."7 This reply, as we shall see, anticipates one important theme of Stoicism. The ~ William B. Irvine

The thing with Joy Division's music is that each member was playing like a separate line. We hardly ever played together; we all played separately. But when you put it together, it was like the ingredients in a cake. ~ Peter Hook

An anthology is like all the plums and orange peel picked out of a cake. ~ Walter Raleigh

Of course, I think Legna tops this particular cake. You see, when Mind Demons teleport, they have to remember to teleport their clothes with them."
"Oh no . . ."
"Oh, yes. Noah's coronation anniversary. There is an incredible celebration every ten years, and everyone goes, even the most solitary of us. Legna was sixteen years old, and she was running late just like any typical teenager. She exploded into the room. Mind you, the display of a teleport in someone so young is ten times what you see her cause now, so she had everyone's attention. That youngling blushed bright red in places I never thought a woman could blush. It was a most enlightening moment."
"I'll bet!" Isabella giggled, her skin flushing in sympathetic embarrassment. "The poor thing!"
"Well, Noah responded very fast, so I assure you she only had time for a quick blush before he covered her in smoke, blocking her from a multitude of very astonished eyes. We do not tease her about it, however. Noah actually passed a law saying we could not. It was the only way he could get her to go out in public again. I am risking my peace of mind telling you this. One chuckle in front of her, little flower, and you will doom me. So please . . . ~ Jacquelyn Frank

One can fully own a manufactured thing - a toaster, say, or a pair of shoes. But in what reasonable sense can one fully "own" and have "rights" to do whatever we want to land, water, air, and forests, which are among the most valuable assets in humanity's basic endowments? To say, in the march of eons, that we own these things into which we suddenly, fleetingly appear and from which we will soon vanish is like a newborn laying claim to the maternity ward, or a candle asserting ownership of the cake; we might as well declare that, having been handed a ticket to ride, we've bought the train. Let's be serious. ~ Carl Safina

You saved the world," annabeth said.
"We saved the world."
"And Rachel is the new Oracle, which means she won't be dating anybody."
"You don't sound disappointed," I noticed.
Annabeth shrugged. "Oh, I don't care."
"Uh-huh."
She raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?"
"You'd probably kick my butt."
"You know I'd kick your butt."
I brushed the cake off my hands. "When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable . . . Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal."
Annabeth kept her eyes on the horizon. "Yeah?"
"Then up on Olympus," I said, "when they wanted to make me a god and stuff, I kept thinking - "
"Oh, you so wanted to."
"Well, maybe a little. But I didn't, because I thought - I didn't want things to stay the same for eternity, because
things could always get better. And I was thinking . . ." My throat felt really dry.
"Anyone in particular?" Annabeth asked, her voice soft.
I looked over and saw that she was trying not to smile.
"You're laughing at me," I complained.
"I am not!"
"You are so not making this easy."
Then she laughed for real, and she put her hands around my neck. "I am never, ever going to make things easy for
you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it."
When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body. I could've stayed that way ~ Rick Riordan

John laughed. "Out here, any cake is a treat."
"But everyone has a favorite." Her eyes smiled at Nick. "Well?"
"Chocolate, ma'am." The words surprised him by tumbling out of his mouth.
"Chocolate, it is," she said gaily. "Good thing I brought cocoa powder with me."
John winked at Nick before turning to his wife. "You practically brought all of Boston with you. ~ Debra Holland

I find the act of writing very painful. I can go a whole month without managing a single line, or write three days and nights straight, only to find the whole thing has missed the mark.
At the same time, though, I love writing. Ascribing meaning to life is a piece of cake compared to actually living it. ~ Haruki Murakami

On the other side of St John's house is a fake egg timer who can't maintain an erection. He shares the property with a glossy beef burger called Tom, who has been painted by a seven year old magistrate in order to be entered for this year's Miss East Lancashire competition. Next door to them is a Dundee cake with a lisp. ~ St John Morris

Harris said, however, that the river would suit him to a "T." I don't know what a "T" is (except a sixpenny one, which includes bread-and- butter and cake AD LIB., and is cheap at the price, if you haven't had any dinner). It seems to suit everybody, however, which is greatly to its credit. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

Afterwards, go to a pub for lunch. I've got $260 in my savings account and I really want you to use it for that. Really, I mean it
lunch is on me. Make sure you have pudding
sticky toffee, chocolate fudge cake, ice-cream sundae, something really bad for you. Get drunk too if you like (but don't scare Cal). Spend all the money.
And after that, when days have gone by, keep an eye out for me. I might write on the steam in the mirror when you're having a bath, or play with the leaves on the apple tree when you're out in the garden. I might slip into a dream.
Visit my grave when you can, but don't kick yourself if you can't, or if you move house and it's suddenly too far away. It looks pretty there in the summer (check out the website). You could bring a picnic and sit with me. I'd like that. ~ Jenny Downham

The most important thing I want to get across is that maintaining weight loss is just hard. It takes a dedication to exercise and eating right most of the time. I'm not saying I don't enjoy the days that I'm not eating chocolate cake. But I do particularly like those days when I am eating chocolate cake. ~ Trisha Yearwood

Or what is it you used to say when we'd to go out in my pickup truck down by the pond, just the two of us? I'm the bit to your bridle. I'm the Jack in your Daniels…."
Would it be weird if I were shedding tears right now?
"You're the fruit in my pie…you're the sprinkles on my cake," I finish his sentence. ~ A.Wilding Wells

…But Jessica changed all that. Richard found himself, on otherwise sensible weekends, accompanying her to places like the National Gallery and the Tate Gallery, where he learned that walking around museums too long hurts your feet, that the great art treasures of the world all blur into each other after a while, and that it is almost beyond the human capacity for belief to accept how much museum cafeterias will brazenly charge for a slice of cake and a cup of tea.
"Here's your tea and your éclair," he told her. "It would have cost less to buy one of those Tintorettos."
"Don't exaggerate," said Jessica cheerfully. "Anyway, there aren't any Tintorettos at the Tate."
"I should have had that cherry cake," said Richard. "Then they would have been able to afford another Van Gogh. ~ Neil Gaiman

Life, my brethren, is like plum-cake. In some the plums are all on the top, and we eat them gayly, till we suddenly find they are gone. In others the plums sink to the bottom, and we look for them in vain as we go on, and often come to them when it is too late to enjoy them. But in the well-made cake, the plums are wisely scattered all through, and every mouthful is a pleasure. We make our own cakes, in a great measure, therefore let us look to it, my brethren, that they are mixed according to the best receipt, baked in a well regulated oven, and gratefully eaten with a temperate appetite. ~ Louisa May Alcott

Take this. When you're ready, I want to put it on your finger. I want you to meet my son. I want you to let me bring you into my world – because I need you there. The media crap is just PR. Piece of cake for you, trust me. There are a hundred people ready to help us nail it. Let me help you rebuild your faith, because that's who you are, and I love who you are.
'Remember last fall, when you needed to be reckless, and I told you to use me? Well, now, it's time to be fearless. I can't promise that you won't be hurt again, because life can suck. And, sometimes, it hurts like hell. I'm asking you to have faith in one thing, for now: the fact that when we're alone, I'm just Reid, and you're just Dori, and we're going to love each other for the rest of our lives.'
She's staring at me, the velvet-covered box clutched in her hand. I lean forward and kiss her, tasting her tears or my own, I don't know which. 'Come to me when you're ready to be fearless. Unless you can look me in the eye right now and tell me you don't love me.'
Lower lip trembling, she says nothing, and I kiss her again before I leave. ~ Tammara Webber

We fatties have a bond, dude. It's like a secret society. We got all kinds of shit you don't know about. Handshakes, special fat people dances-we got these secret fugging lairs in the center of the earth and we go down there in the middle of the night when all the skinny kids are sleeping and eat cake and friend chicken and shit. Why d'you think Hollis is still sleeping, kafir? Because we were up all night in the secret lair injecting butter frosting into our veins ... A fatty trusts another fatty. ~ John Green

Easy as cake."
"Pie."
"Yeah. I can't make pie. My cousin got all the baking genes, but if it comes out of a box and has very detailed instructions, I can make an edible cake. Cake is easy. Pie's a bitch. ~ Vivi Andrews

Apples

Ma's apple blossoms
have turned to hard green balls.

To eat them now,
so tart,
would turn my mouth inside out,
would make my stomach groan.

But in just a couple months,
after the baby is born,
those apples will be ready
and we'll make pies
and sauce
and pudding
and dumplings
and cake
and cobbler
and have just plain apples to take to school
and slice with my pocket knife
and eat one juicy piece at a time
until my mouth is clean
and fresh
and my breath is nothing but apple.

June 1934 ~ Karen Hesse

It's so much fun that the money is just icing on the cake. There seems to be a lot of icing. ~ Ken Jennings

The evening light was like honey in the trees
When you left me and walked to the end of the street
Where the sunset abruptly ended.
The wedding-cake drawbridge lowered itself
To the fragile forget-me-not flower.
You climbed aboard.
Burnt horizons suddenly paved with golden stones,
Dreams I had, including suicide,
Puff out the hot-air balloon now.
It is bursting, it is about to burst ~ John Ashbery

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

Of course, a good meal might have helped; but I had already abolished my hunger by eating chocolate cake with fungus icing. Or I could have gone to a movie and smoked some grass. But when you're in that kind of sweat, the only lasting remedy is to ride with it: accept the anxiety, be depressed, relax, and let the current carry you where it will. ~ Truman Capote

We started getting hungry again, and some of the women started chanting, "MEAT, MEAT, MEAT!"
We were having steak tartare. It was the only appropriate main course we could think of, for such a graceless theme, and seeing as nobody in the club was confident making it, we had to order it in. I made chips to serve with it, though. I deep-fried them in beef fat.
The steak was served in little roulades, raw and minced, like horsemeat. It was topped with a raw egg yolk, chopped onions, pickled beetroot, and capers. I had wanted to use the Wisconsin version, which is served on cocktail bread and dubbed "cannibal sandwich," but Stevie insisted we go classic. Not everyone could stomach theirs with the raw egg yolk, too, and so, unusually for a Supper Club, there was quite a lot left over.
We took another break to drink and move about the room. Some of us took MDMA. Emmeline had brought a box of French macarons, tiny pastel-colored things, which we threw over the table, trying to get them into one another's mouth, invariably missing.
For our proper dessert, we had a crepe cake: a stack of pancakes bound together with melted chocolate. We ate it with homemade ice cream, which was becoming a real staple. ~ Lara Williams

How is destruction beautiful?" He asked in a challenging tone.
"You may think that a broken egg is ugly and messy," she answered, "but the cake it goes into is beautiful and won't hold together without it."
"Eggs don't get blown up. They get broken."
"You've never seen me bake," she replied with a smirk. ~ Amy Neftzger

We would never go shopping together or eat an entire cake while we complained about men. He'd never invite me over to his house for dinner or a barbecue. We'd never be lovers. But there was a very good chance that one of us would be the last person the other saw before we died. It wasn't friendship the way most people understood it, but it was friendship. There were several people I'd trust with my life, but there is no one else I'd trust with my death. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

When you eat a carrot that is nothing but carrot it zooms through your system as a carrot. When you eat a piece of mass-produced carrot cake that contains 32 ingredients, your metabolism screeches to a halt while your body tries to figure out what all those things are that you just swallowed, and what it is supposed to do with them. Therefore, the problem isn't "fat", its piles of excess ingredients your body's stacked on shelves and vowed to sort out later. ~ Cathy Guisewite

Writing is like making a delicious cake. Use the best ingredients, layer the flavors, and finish it with panache. If your product is made with good taste, people will ask for more. ~ Claudia McCants

An important contributory factor to the loss of mental morale in the church has been a misguided conception of Christian charity. It has been assumed that the charitable man suppresses his views in the same way that he subordinates his personal interests. A wild fantasy has taken hold of many Christians. They have come to imagine that just as an unselfish man restrains himself from snatching another piece of cake, so too, he restrains himself from putting forward his point of view. And just as it is bad form to boast about your private possessions or loudly recapitulate your personal achievements, so too it is bad form announce what your convictions are.

By analogy with that charity of the spirit which never asks or claims but always gives and gives again, we have manufactured a false "charity" of the mind, which never takes a stand, but continually yields ground. It is proper to give way to other people's interests: therefore it is proper to give way to other people's ideas.

The damage done by this false deduction has been enormous. It is urgently necessary to clear the air on this matter. A man's religious convictions and understanding of the truth are not private possessions, in the sense that his suit and the contents of his brief case are private possessions.

Your beliefs as a Christian are not yours in the sense that you have rights over them, either to tamper with them or to throw them away. Of course, the very fact that we view conv ~ Harry Blamires

We know our neighbors - so far as we have the right to know them. We hear of their joys and their sorrows, and hasten to make them ours so far as we may. Life in a small town is like a layer cake. One gets the whole of it, frosted top, lemon filling and all. ~ Laura E. Richards

...but in 1917 we had no cares except the mundane ones of starvation and occupation and civil war, and for those of us in our armored trains traveling up and down the front waging brilliant campaigns, or for our young Natashas and Alyoshas experiencing the education and class steeling of the Komsomol for the first time, learning to ask in every historical situation: How many workers are there? how many peasants, intellectuals? how do they stand on this issue? it was a very exciting and romantic period; what I am getting at is that probably no one felt alone as Bug had felt alone; for everyone worked together and loved each other- oh, I hope that that was true. For if life is worth living at all you can have your cake and eat it, too (съесть ее тунцом as the Russians say, и ее мудак- literally to eat out her tuna and her asshole); when you fight together you feel together; love and politics go hand in hand, and I can demonstrate this feasibly with another linguistic point. A girl's cherry is her tsélka. Raskobót cya kak tsélochka, to pop like a little cherry, means in fact to crack under interrogation. I want to draw your attention, comrades, to that highly significant trope. ~ William T. Vollmann

They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?" I said. "How about Tristan and I make you and Jax a romantic dinner? And you bake him a cake for dessert. We'll warm him up with a gourmet meal, but once he tastes your cake, he'll be putty in your hands. ~ Kristie Cook

We want to get behind the beauty, but it is only a surface. It is like a mirror that reflects to us our own desire for good. It is a sphinx, an enigma, a sorrowfully irritating mystery. We want to feed on it, but it is only an object we can look on; it appears to us from a certain distance. The great sorrow of human life is knowing that to look and to eat are two different operations. Only on the other side of heaven, where God lives, are they one and the same operation. Children already experience this sorrow when they look at a cake for a long time and nearly regret eating it, but are powerless to help themselves. Maybe the vices, depravities and crimes are nearly always or even always in their essence attempts to eat beauty, to eat what one can only look at. Eve initiated this. If she lost our humanity by eating a fruit, the reverse attitude - looking at a fruit without eating it - must be what saves. ~ Simone Weil