M. F. K. Fisher Quotes - Page 4

Quotes about:

• An oyster leads a dreadful but exciting life.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Oysters, Exciting, Exciting Life

  M. F. K. Fisher (2016). “Consider the Oyster”, p.7, Pickle Partners Publishing

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• For anyone addicted to reading commonplace books . . . finding a good new one is much like enduring a familiar recurrence of malaria, with fever, fits of shaking, strange dreams . . . .

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Dream, Reading, Book

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• I cannot count the good people I know who to my mind would be even better if they bent their spirits to the study of their own hungers.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  People, Mind, Would Be

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.385, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• I wrote from the time I was four. It was my way of screaming and yelling, the primal scream. I wrote like a junkie, I had to have my daily fix.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Yelling, Four, Way

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• This is not that, and that is certainly not this, and at the same time an oyster stew is not stewed, and although they are made of the same things and even cooked almost the same way, an oyster soup should never be called a stew, nor stew soup.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Food, Oysters, Soup

  M. F. K. Fisher (2016). “Consider the Oyster”, p.71, Pickle Partners Publishing

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• Family dinners are more often than not an ordeal of nervous indigestion, preceded by hidden resentment and ennui and accompanied by psychosomatic jitters.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Family, Food, Memorable

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.640, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Brioches are a light, pale yellow, faintly sweet kind of muffin with a characteristic blob on top, rather like a mushroom just pushing crookedly through the ground. Once eaten in Paris, they never taste as good anywhere else.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Sweet, Food, Pale Yellow

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• When a man is small, he loves and hates food with a ferocity which soon dims. At six years old his very bowels will heave when such a dish as creamed carrots or cold tapioca appear before him.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Hate, Men, Years

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.42, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Children and old people and the parents in between should be able to live together, in order to learn how to die with grace, together. And I fear that this is purely utopian fantasy.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Family, Death, Children

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• I was horribly self-conscious; I wanted everybody to look at me and think me the most fascinating creature in the world, and yet I died a small hideous death if I saw even one person throw a casual glance at me.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Thinking, Self, Looks

  M. F. K. Fisher, Joan Reardon (2004). “The Art of Eating”, p.415, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• War is a beastly business, it is true, but one proof we are human is our ability to learn, even from it, how better to exist

  M. F. K. Fisher

  War, Beastly, Proof

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.223, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• . . . word-sniffing . . . is an addiction, like glue -- or snow -- sniffing in a somewhat less destructive way, physically if not economically. . . . As an addict, I am almost guiltily interested in converts to my own illness . . .

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Snow, Addiction, Glue

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• old age is more bearable if it can be helped by an early acceptance of being loved and of loving.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Acceptance, Age, Bearable

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• death ... so seldom happens nowadays in the awesome quiet of a familiar chamber. Most of us die violently, thanks to the advance of science and warfare. If by chance we are meant to end life in our beds, we are whisked like pox victims to the nearest hospital, where we are kept as alone and unaware as possible of the approach of disintegration.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Dying, Bed, Warfare

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• Painting, it is true, was undergoing a series of -isms reminiscent of the whims of a pregnant woman.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Isms, Painting, Whim

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• The things men come to eat when they are alone are, I suppose, not much stranger than the men themselves.... A writer years ago told me of living for five months on hen mash.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Men, Years, Solitude

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.683, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• There's a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Food, Wine, Drunk

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.388, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• A complete lack of caution is perhaps one of the true signs of a real gourmet: he has no need for it, being filled as he is with a God-given and intelligently self-cultivated sense of gastronomical freedom.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Real, Food, Self

  "An Alphabet for Gourmets". Book by M. F. K. Fisher, 1949.

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• At present, I myself do not know of any local witches or warlocks, but there are several people who seem to have an uncanny power over food.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  People, Witch, Uncanny

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• But if I must be alone, I refuse to be alone as if it were something weak and distasteful, like convalescence.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Weak, Convalescence, Refuse

  M. F. K. Fisher, Joan Reardon (2004). “The Art of Eating”, p.553, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• It is easy to think of potatoes, and fortunately for men who have not much money it is easy to think of them with a certain safety. Potatoes are one of the last things to disappear, in times of war, which is probably why they should not be forgotten in times of peace.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  War, Men, Thinking

  Joan Reardon, M.F.K. Fisher (2014). “The Art of Eating”, p.321, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• I honestly believe that everything I know about the writing of non-fiction (or writing) could be engraved on the head of a pin with a garden hoe.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Believe, Writing, Garden

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• One ... aspect of the case for World War II is that while it was still a shooting affair it taught us survivors a great deal about daily living which is valuable to us now that it is, ethically at least, a question of cold weapons and hot words.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  War, Taught Us, Hot

  M. F. K. Fisher, Joan Reardon (2004). “The Art of Eating”, p.223, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• As for the house, it is scrubbed to the tiniest mousehole before Passover, to avoid such dangers as even a forgotten cake crumb might cause. Passover dishes are probably the most interesting of any in the Jewish cuisine because of the lack of leaven and the resulting challenge to fine cooks.... Everything is doubly rich, as if to compensate for the lack of leaven... [W]oes are forgotten in the pleasures of the table, for if the Mosaic laws are rightly followed, no man need fear true poison in his belly, but only the results of his own gluttony.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Men, Law, Cake

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• ... most bereaved souls crave nourishment more tangible than prayers: they want a steak. What is more, they need a steak. Preferably they need it rare, grilled, heavily salted, for that way it is most easily digested, and most quickly turned into the glandular whip their tired adrenals cry for.

  M. F. K. Fisher

  Prayer, Grief, Tired

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