Chocolate Store Quotes & Sayings

I'm getting chocolate. I need you. Come over." She hung up, hoping he would get the message. A binge was coming, get help.
Inside the store, she blew past the small plastic shopping baskets not made for heavy lifting, and wheeled the full-sized grocery cart over to the holiday aisle. One of the wheels dragged like a conscience, pulling the cart halfheartedly in the direction of the fresh produce. The other wheels squealed in protest. — Ann Wertz Garvin

All I really, really want to do is find a very, very fine chocolate store that I can walk into and then figure out how in the world one manages to pick out just a few chocolates out of all those very many chocolates! If I am one day able to walk into a fine chocolate store and know for certain which chocolates I want, when that happens, I will believe myself to be accomplished! — C. JoyBell C.

There's an organic grocery store just off the highway exit. I can't remember the last time I went shopping for food." A smile glittered in his eyes. "I might have gone overboard."
I walked into the kitchen, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances, black granite countertops, and walnut cabinetry. Very masculine, very sleek. I went for the fridge first. Water bottles, spinach and arugula, mushrooms, gingerroot, Gorgonzola and feta cheeses, natural peanut butter, and milk on one side. Hot dogs, cold cuts, Coke, chocolate pudding cups, and canned whipped cream on the other. I tried to picture Patch pushing a shopping cart down the aisle, tossing in food as it pleased him. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Withholding forgiveness until an offender understands or acknowledges the emotional pain they have inflicted is a subtle form of revenge. Why? Because it's hoping that the offender would hurt a little too, in order to understand. But this type of revenge robs you of your freedom and allows the offender to keep control of you. Dr. Chuck Lynch, I Should Forgive, but . — Beth Moore

Once they were inside the park Bay asked, "Isn't there a store at the Rio Grande Village?"
"What is it you need?"
"Chocolate."
"It's a hundred degrees in the shade," he said. "Chocolate is going to melt."
"Well, actually, it isn't chocolate I need. It's something else. I didn't want to embarrass you."
"What?"
"Tampax."
He eyed her sideways. "Why didn't you bring some from home? Or pick some up at the safeway?"
She flushed. "I didn't think of it. Not that it's any of your business, but my periods aren't regular."
He made a disgusted sound. "This is exactly why I didn't want to bring you along. — Joan Johnston

According to Zagat Disneyland Insider's Guide (2010), the Candy Palace is the fifth most popular store in the entire resort, and the third most popular in the park. Perhaps one reason is the shop's intoxicating candy scent; it vents onto Main Street, an elixir of vanilla and molten chocolate that entices Guests to enter the premises and then entices then to remain. pouring over the bins, shelves, and racks of traditional and unique candies. — Leslie Le Mon

There was also an alarming assortment of junk food, including ready-made cheesecake filling in a tub, which I didn't even know existed. And now that I was aware of it, I was extremely disgruntled that I couldn't eat any of it. — Molly Harper

I heard an old man speak once, someone who had been sober for fifty years, a very prominent doctor. He said that he'd finally figured out a few years ago that his profound sense of control, in the world and over his life, is another addiction and a total illusion. He said that when he sees little kids sitting in the back seat of cars, in those car seats that have steering wheels, with grim expressions of concentration on their faces, clearly convinced that their efforts are causing the car to do whatever it is doing, he thinks of himself and his relationship with God: God who drives along silently, gently amused, in the real driver's seat. — Anne Lamott

I'm passionate about anything I align myself with. You want to talk about chocolate chip cookies? I'm not going to open a chocolate chip cookie store, but I will talk your ear off about it. — Blake Lively

AUGUST 25 A Special Angel By Maria Gillard Thank you for my childhood, for my laughing heart and soul for all your magic, and for being bold Thank you for being my mom's best friend and loving me no matter what state I was in Thanks for chives and roses, popcorn and TV Thanks for always letting me be me Thanks for rides to swim meets and yummy chocolate cake Thanks for being strong and true when my heart was aching Thank you for the blankets and pillow for my head Thank you for the back hill and the Westside River bed Thank you for the smell of melting butter on the stove Thank you for the nickels you gave me for the store You were a special angel sent to all of us with your disguise of freckles, kisses, hugs and guts We know you're out there somewhere and you'll stay inside our dreams We know wherever you are there's a brilliant golden beam Watch over us, dear angel, as you go on your way and we will laugh and sing and dance again someday Amen — Cathleen O'Connor

Bags and boxes across the hot parking lot to the van. On the way back to the mall, Willa Jean, who spotted the ice-cream store that sold fifty-two flavors, told her uncle she needed an ice-cream cone. Uncle Hobart agreed that ice-cream cones were needed by all. Inside the busy shop, customers had to take numbers and wait turns. Ramona, responsible for Willa Jean, who could not read, was faced with the embarrassing task of reading aloud the list of fifty-two flavors while all the customers listened. Strawberry, German chocolate, vanilla, ginger-peachy, red-white-and-blueberry, black walnut, Mississippi mud, green bubble gum, baseball nut. — Beverly Cleary

In the '60s, my father, Wally Amos, had been a talent agent and a personal manager before taking a major career detour in 1975, when he opened a store selling chocolate chip cookies. — Shawn Amos

To dare, and again dare, and forever dare! — Georges Danton

All these young mothers chauffeuring their volcanic three-year-olds through the grocery store. The child's name always sounds vaguely presidental, and he or she tends to act accordingly. "Mommy hears what you're saying about treats," the woman will say, "But right now she needs you to let go of her hair and put the chocolate-covered Life Savers back where they came from."
"No!" screams McKinley or Madison, Kennedy or Lincoln or beet-faced baby Reagan. Looking on, I always want to intervene. "Listen," I'd like to say, "I'm not a parent myself, but I think the best solution at this point is to slap that child across the face. It won't stop its crying, but at least now it'll be doing it for a good reason. — David Sedaris

It's not exactly under the radar, but when I'm in London, I love to visit Liberty. It's my favorite department store, and they have a room entirely dedicated to chocolate and truffles. — Ashley Madekwe

When you walk into a chocolate store, suddenly the most difficult decision you will ever have to make in your life, is which chocolates to pick! It is pure torture! Especially when you are in Belgium surrounded by Belgian chocolates! — C. JoyBell C.

She desired not only the dolls and dollhouses but also the accessories that gave the appearance of daily life. For a breakfast scene, she cabled Au Nain Bleu asking for tiny French breads: croissants, brioches, madeleines, mille-feuilles, and turnovers. But she wasn't done. In a May 7,1956, cable to store, she wrote:
For the lovely pastry shop please send
the following: waffles, babas,
tartelettes, crepes, tartines, palm-
iers, galettes, cups of milk, tea and
coffee with milk, small butter jars,
fake jam and honey, small boxes of
chocolate, candies and candied fruits,
and small forks. Thank you. — Bill Dedman

But it is a rare and beautiful thing when we choose to offer love in situations when most people would choose to scorn or ignore. — Lysa TerKeurst

Every one at the bottom of his heart cherishes vanity; even the toad thinks himself good-looking,
rather tawny perhaps, but look at his eye! — Woodrow Wilson