Bread Quotes - Page 17

• A man's physical hunger does not prove that man will get any bread; he may die of starvation on a raft in the Atlantic. But surely a man's hunger does prove that he comes of a race which repairs its body by eating and inhabits a world where eatable substances exist. In the same way, though I do not believe (I wish I did) that my desire for Paradise proves that I shall enjoy it, I think it a pretty good indication that such a thing exists and that some men will.

  C. S. Lewis

  Believe, Men, Thinking

  C. S. Lewis (2009). “Weight of Glory”, p.32, Harper Collins

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• I have been keeping track of the boy with the bread.

  Suzanne Collins

  Boys, Track, Has Beens

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• Such things as anguish, woe, affliction, guilt, feelings of awfulness, and utter wretchedness, the bread and butter of Days of Yore and Russians, sadly have very little staying power in these lickety-split Modern Times.

  Marisha Pessl

  Feelings, Guilt, Affliction

  Marisha Pessl (2006). “Special Topics in Calamity Physics”, p.166, Penguin

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• And our problems will crumble apart, the soul / blow through like a wind, and here where we live will all be clean again, with fresh bread on the table.

  Pablo Neruda

  Blow, Wind, Soul

  Pablo Neruda (1986). “100 Love Sonnets: Cien sonetos de amor”, University of Texas Press

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• One doesn’t become a witch to run around being helpful either…. It’s to escape all that – to have a life of one’s own, not an existence doled out to you by others, charitable refuse of their thoughts, so many ounces of stale bread of life a day.

  Sylvia Townsend Warner

  Running, Bread Of Life, Helpful

  Sylvia Townsend Warner (1926). “Lolly Willowes; or, the loving huntsman”

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• Beneatha: You didn't tell us what Alaiyo means... for all I know, you might be calling me Little Idiot or something... ... Asagai: It means... it means One for Whom Bread--Food--Is Not Enough.

  Lorraine Hansberry

  Mean, Calling, Littles

  "A Raisin in the Sun". Book by Lorraine Hansberry, www.theguardian.com. 1959.

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• The continuing struggle was once described in the following metaphor by a patient who had successfully completed a long course of psychotherapy: 'I came to therapy hoping to receive butter for the bread of life. Instead, at the end, I emerged with a pail of sour milk, a churn, and instructions on how to use them.' (138)

  Sheldon B. Kopp

  Struggle, Bread Of Life, Sour Milk

  SHELDON B KOPP (1972). “IF YOU MEET THE BUDDHA ON THE ROAD KILL HIM THE PILGRIMAGE OF PSYCHOTHERAPY PATIENTS”

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• Alexander, you broke my heart. But for carrying me on your back, for pulling my dying sled, for giving me your last bread, for the body you destroyed for me, for the son you have given me, for the twenty-nine days we lived like Red Birds of Paradise, for all our Naples sands and Napa wines, for all the days you have been my first and last breath, for Orbeli- I will forgive you.

  Paullina Simons

  Heart, Wine, Son

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• For she was a child, throwing bread to the ducks, between her parents who stood by the lake, holding her life in her arms which, as she neared them, grew larger and larger in her arms, until it became a whole life, a complete life, which she put down by them and said, "This is what I have made of it! This!" And what had she made of it? What, indeed?

  Virginia Woolf

  Children, Lakes, Ducks

  Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.878, Delphi Classics

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• As he heard me approach, he quickly leaped up, grabbing a nearby loaf of bread and holding it in front of him as if struck by a sudden desire to make a sandwich.

  Sarah Dessen

  Desire, Sandwiches, Heard

  Sarah Dessen (2008). “Lock and Key”, p.235, Penguin

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• My aim is to agitate and disturb people. I'm not selling bread; I'm selling yeast.

  Miguel de Unamuno

  People, Yeast, Selling

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• He (Intellectuals) claims that label to compensate for his own inadequacies. It's as old as that saying: tell me what you boast of and I'll tell you what you lack. Our daily bread. The incompetent always present themselves as experts, the cruel as pious, sinners as excessively devout, usurers as benefactors, the small-minded as patriots, the arrogant as humble, the vulgar as elegant and the feeble-minded as intellectual.

  Carlos Ruiz Zafon

  Humble, Intellectual, Experts

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• Seeking the face of God in everything, everyone, all the time, and his hand in every happening; This is what it means to be contemplative in the heart of the world. Seeing and adoring the presence of Jesus, especially in the lowly appearance of bread, and in the distressing disguise of the poor.

  Mother Teresa

  Jesus, Heart, Mean

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• Tell me what it is like to die," I answered. He dismounted from his horse, looking at me strangely the whole while. "You experience something similar every day," he said softly. "It is as familiar to you as bread and butter." "Yes," I said. "It is like every night when I fall asleep." "No. It is like every morning when you wake up.

  Martine Leavitt

  Morning, Horse, Fall

  Martine Leavitt (2016). “Keturah and Lord Death”, p.89, Highlights Press

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• I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door. Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.

  Suzanne Collins

  Doors, Calling, Dinner

  Suzanne Collins (2009). “The Hunger Games”, p.70, Scholastic Inc.

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• Fantasy is like jam. . . . You have to spread it on a solid piece of bread. If not, it remains a shapeless thing . . . out of which you can’t make anything.

  Italo Calvino

  Jam, Pieces, Fantasy

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• He fed his spirit with the bread of books

  Edwin Markham

  Book, Reading, Spirit

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• And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen when we get home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.

  Suzanne Collins

  Home, Boys, Talking

  "The Hunger Games". Book by Suzanne Collins, September 14, 2008.

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• Lay me down like a stone oh God, and raise me up like a new bread".

  Leo Tolstoy

  Stones, Raises, Lays

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• Rule No.37 The whiter the bread, the sooner you’ll be dead.

  Michael Pollan

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• In my craft or sullen art Exercised in the still night When only the moon rages And the lovers lie abed With all their griefs in their arms, I labour by singing light Not for ambition or bread Or the strut and trade of charms On the ivory stages But for the common wages Of their most secret heart. Not for the proud man apart From the raging moon I write On these spindrift pages Nor for the towering dead With their nightingales and psalms But for the lovers, their arms Round the griefs of the ages, Who pay no praise or wages Nor heed my craft or art.

  Dylan Thomas

  Art, Lying, Grief

  In My Craft or Sullen Art" l. 17 (1946)

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• These are the voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world. Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of everyone of its members. Society is a joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better securing of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture of the eater. The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is its aversion. It loves not realities and creators, but names and customs.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Reality, Self, Names

  Ralph Waldo Emerson (2015). “Emerson's Essays: Top Essays”, p.42, 谷月社

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• Side by side with the human race there runs another race of beings, the inhuman ones, the race of artists who, goaded by unknown impulses, take the lifeless mass of humanity and by the fever and ferment with which they imbue it turn this soggy dough into bread and the bread into wine and the wine into song.

  Henry Miller

  Running, Song, Wine

  Henry Miller (1964). “Henry Miller on Writing”, New Directions Publishing

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• He won’t last long, akri. Thanatos is barbecue. And I like my barbecue. Just tell me how you want him, akri, normal recipe or extra crispy. I’m partial to extra crispy myself. They crunch louder when deep-fried. Reminds me, I need some bread crumbs. (Simi)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Long, Needs, Recipes

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• O you, who in some pretty boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along Turn back to look again upon your own shores; Tempt not the deep, lest unawares, In losing me, you yourselves might be lost. The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. You other few who have neck uplifted Betimes to the bread of angels upon Which one lives and does not grow sated, Well may you launch your vessel Upon the deep sea.

  Dante Alighieri

  Angel, Sea, Singing

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