Pot Quotes - Page 13

• If we're open to it, God can use even the smallest thing to change our lives... to change us. It might be a laughing child, car brakes that need fixing, a sale on pot roast, a cloudless sky, a trip to the woods to cut down a Christmas tree, a school teacher, a Dunhill Billiard pipe...or even a pair of shoes. Some people will never believe. They may feel that such things are too trivial, too simple, or too insignificant to forever change a life. But I believe. And I always will.

  Donna VanLiere

  Life, Teacher, Children

  Donna VanLiere (2016). “The Christmas Collection: The Christmas Shoes, The Christmas Blessing, and The Christmas Hope”, p.408, St. Martin's Press

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• Amy gritted her teeth. "King Louis XVI even put Franklin's picture on a chamber pot!" Jonah looked at his dad. "Do we have souvenir chamber pots?" "No." His dad whipped out his phone. "I'll make the call.

  Rick Riordan

  Kings, Dad, Phones

  Rick Riordan (2016). “The 39 Clues 1: The 39 Clues: The Maze of Bones”, p.107, Scholastic UK

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• Learn how to smile in the cannibal pot and life will be so much easier.

  Alan Brennert

  Easier, Cannibal

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• At the end of the rainbow waited the pot of gold. But rainbows were made of faint and fragile gossamer-and gold weighed a ton-and since the world began, gold was the reason to do most anything.

  Virginia C. Andrews

  Rainbow, Gold, World

  Virginia C. Andrews (2004). “Flowers in the Attic”

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• Sam, I really want to buy a red coffee pot, if they exist," Grace said. "I'll find you one

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Coffee, Grace, Want

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• Here is something that the psychologists have so far neglected: the love of ugliness for its own sake, the lust to make the world intolerable. Its habitat is the United States. Out of the melting pot emerges a race which hates beauty as it hates truth.

  H. L. Mencken

  Hate, Race, Lust

  H.L. Mencken (2012). “Mencken Chrestomathy”, p.576, Vintage

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• I elbowed my way into the grubby café, bought a pie that tasted of shoe polish and a pot of tea with cork crumbs floating in it, and eavesdropped on a pair of Shetland pony breeders. Despondency makes one hanker after lives one never led. Why have you given your life to books, TC? Dull, dull, dull! The memoirs are bad enough, but all that ruddy fiction! Hero goes on a journey, stranger comes to town, somebody wants something, they get it or they don't, will is pitted against will. "Admire me, for I am a metaphor.

  David Mitchell

  Book, Hero, Journey

  David Mitchell (2008). “Cloud Atlas: A Novel”, p.169, Random House

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• In my mind, President Snow should be viewed in front of marble pillars hung with oversized flags. It's jarring to see him surrounded by the ordinary objects in the room. Like taking the lid off a pot and finding a fanged viper instead of stew.

  Suzanne Collins

  President Snow, Mind, Ordinary

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Catching Fire (The Second Book of the Hunger Games)”, p.18, Scholastic Inc.

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• Miss Celia stares down into the pot like she's looking for her future. "Are you happy, Minny?" "Why you ask me funny questions like that?" "But are you?" "Course I's happy. You happy too. Big house, big yard, husband looking after you." I frown at Miss Celia and I make sure she can see it. Because ain't that white people for you, wondering if they are happy ENOUGH.

  Kathryn Stockett

  Husband, White, People

  Kathryn Stockett (2009). “The Help”, p.49, Penguin

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• The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps.

  T. S. Eliot

  Lonely, Horse, Winter

  Prufrock (1917) "Preludes"

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• When the sunlight strikes raindrops in the air, they act like a prism and form a rainbow. The rainbow is a division of white light into many beautiful colors. These take the shape of a long round arch, with it’s path high above, and it’s two ends apparently beyond the horizon. There is, according to legend, a boiling pot of a gold at one end. People look, but no one ever finds it. When a man looks for something beyond his reach, his friends say he is looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

  Hayley Williams

  Beautiful, Men, Two

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• I spent an hour looking at pots and carpets in the museums the other day, until the desire to describe them became like the desire for the lusts of the flesh.

  Virginia Woolf

  Museums, Lust, Desire

  Virginia Woolf (1976). “The Letters of Virginia Woolf”

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• Thankfully the rest of the world assumed that the Irish were crazy, a theory that the Irish themselves did nothing to debunk. They had somehow got it into their heads that each fairy lugged around a pot of gold with him wherever he went. While it was true that LEP had a ransom fund, because of its officers' high-risk occupation, no human had ever taken a chunk of it yet. This didn't stop the Irish population in general from skulking around rainbows, hoping to win the supernatural lottery.

  Eoin Colfer

  Crazy, Taken, Winning

  Eoin Colfer (2001). “Artemis Fowl”

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• A little girl came home from school with a drawing she'd made in class.She danced into the kitchen ,where her mother was preparing dinner. "Mom,guess what ?" she squealed waving the drawing . her mother never looked up. "what"? she said ,tending to the pots. "guess what?" the child repeated ,waving the drawings. "what?" the mother said , tending to the plates. "Mom, you're not listening" "sweetie,yes I am" "Mom" the child said "you're not listening with your EYES

  Mitch Albom

  Girl, Mom, Mother

  Mitch Albom (2009). “Have a Little Faith: A True Story”, Hyperion

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• From the window, above the clatter of pots and the slamming of cabinets, Francis was singing, as though it was the happiest song in the world: 'We are the little black sheep who have gone astray . . . Baa baa baa . . . Gentlemen songsters off on a spree . . . Doomed from here to eternity . . .

  Donna Tartt

  Song, Sheep, Gentleman

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• A rain will fall, but the dirt it tough
  A pot a cook but the food nah nuff.

  Bob Marley

  Cooks

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• So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say. But to sacrifice a hair of the head of your vision, a shade of its colour, in deference to some Headmaster with a silver pot in his hand or to some professor with a measuring-rod up his sleeve, is the most abject treachery, and the sacrifice of wealth and chastity which used to be said to be the greatest of human disasters, a mere flea-bite in comparison.

  Virginia Woolf

  Writing, Sacrifice, Hair

  Virginia Woolf, Hermione Lee (2000). “A room of one's own and other essays”

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• Clary stopped wondering about peanut-fish-olive-tomato soup and started wondering what would happen if she dumped the contents of the pot on Isabelle’s head.

  Cassandra Clare

  Tomatoes, Soup, Olives

  Cassandra Clare (2012). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls”, p.136, Simon and Schuster

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• On the Ning Nang Nong Where the Cows go Bong! And the Monkeys all say Boo! Theres a Nang Nong Ning Where the trees go Ping! And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo On the Nong Ning Nang All the Mice go Clang! And you just cant catch em when they do! So its Ning Nang Nong! Cows go Bong! Nong Nang Ning! Trees go Ping! Nong Ning Nang! The mice go Clang! What a noisy place to belong,Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!

  Spike Milligan

  Tree, Tea, Ems

  Spike Milligan, “On The Ning Nang Nong”

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• So, in "Melting Pot" the children (about a third of whom were kids of color) sang the line, "America was the new world and Europe was the old," in one stroke eradicating the narratives of indigenous persons for whom America was hardly new, and any nonwhite kids whose old worlds had been in Africa or Asia, not Europe.

  Tim Wise

  Children, Kids, Color

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• In March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy. “The moment they start trying to move into each other’s pots, we’ll know they’re fully mature,” she told Harry.

  J. K. Rowling

  Moving, Party, Trying

  J. K. Rowling (1999). “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets”, Raincoast Books

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• Tree It is foolish to let a young redwood grow next to a house. Even in this one lifetime, you will have to choose. That great calm being, this clutter of soup pots and books-- Already the first branch-tips brush at the window. Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.

  Jane Hirshfield

  Book, House, Tree

  Jane Hirshfield, “Tree”

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• What did you do?” “Well, you see, there was this pot of tea, simply sitting there…” He trailed off. “Useful thing, tea,” commented Lyall thoughtfully.

  Gail Carriger

  Tea, Sitting, Useful Things

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• … that sour blend of loneliness and lust for recognition, shyness and extravagance, deep insecurity and self-intoxicated egomania, that drives poets and writers out of their rooms to seek each other out, to rub shoulders with one another, bully, joke, condescend, feel each other, lay a hand on a shoulder or an arm round a waist, to chat and argue with little nudges, to spy a little, sniff out what is cooking in other pots, flatter, disagree, collude, be right, take offence, apologise, make amends, avoid each other, and seek each other’s company again.

  Amos Oz

  Loneliness, Self, Hands

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• Ma'alesh; no matter; never mind; what can you do but accept things as they are? Ma'alesh, your pot overturned in the fire; ma'alesh, your prize mare died; ma'alesh, you lost all your possessions and half your family. The word was the everyday essence of Islam - which itself, after all, means "submission.

  Laurie R. King

  Mean, Fire, Essence

  Laurie R. King (2016). “The Mary Russell Series 9-Book Bundle: O Jerusalem, Justice Hall, The Game, Locked Rooms, The Language of Bees, The God of the Hive, Pirate King, Garment of Shadows, Dreaming Spies”, p.441, Bantam

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