Fork Out Quotes & Sayings

Once I was in a restaurant and I dropped my fork on the floor, and they gave me a new fork. So I pushed my girlfriend out of her chair. — Emo Philips

Wherever a man separates from the multitude, and goes his own way in this mood, there indeed is a fork in the road, though ordinary travelers may see only a gap in the paling. His solitary path across lots will turn out the higher way of the two. — Henry David Thoreau

I frequently look back at my life, searching for that fork in the road, trying to figure out where, exactly, I went bad and became a thrill-seeking, pleasure-hungry sensualist, always looking to shock, amuse, terrify and manipulate, seeking to fill that empty spot in my soul with something new. — Anthony Bourdain

The point is, we all come to forks in the road, and we all make our choices and live with them, for good or ill..[spoilers left out] ... You came to a fork in the road, and you made the best choice you could at the time, under the circumstances you were faced with and using the information you had. You have nothing to beat yourself up over. -Tony Marino — Karen Robards

Ranger is an unusual name," she managed. "Is it a nickname?"
It's a street name," Ranger said. "I was a Ranger in the army."
I heard about them Rangers on TV," Grandma said. "I heard they get dogs pregnant."
My father's mouth dropped open and a piece of ham fell out.
My mother froze, her fork poised in midair.
That's sort of a joke," I told Grandma. "Rangers don't get dogs pregnant in real life."
I looked at Ranger for corroboration and got another smile. — Janet Evanovich

But - drive out prejudice with a pitch-fork it will ever return. — H. P. Blavatsky

I hated Big. I hated everything about him and this story line. First of all, it didn't make any sense that he was getting out of the car to tell her he would marry her and never once said that when she's throwing the flowers at him. I wanted Big dead. I wanted to take the fork that was sitting in my bathroom and stab him in the eyes, right where he has those big puffy circles under them. Stupid-ass shitstain motherfucker. Then Carrie wastes all of her energy being mad at Miranda when the real problem was and always will be Charlotte. Forget what Miranda told Big about getting married. How about being mad at Charlotte for being so stupid? The only decent thing Charlotte's ever done on the show or in the movie is shit her pants, and that does not make up for years of Type 1 retardation. My — Chelsea Handler

Your sister," I say evenly, "is incredibly sick. I'm sorry if that interferes with your dentist's appointment or your plan to go buy a pair of cleats. But those don't rate quite as high in the grand scheme of things right now. I'd think that since you're ten, you might be able to grow up enough to realize that the whole world doesn't always revolve around you."
Jesse looks out the window, where Kate straddles the arm of an oak tree, coaching Anna in how to climb up. "Yeah, right, she's sick," he says. "Why don't you grow up? Why don't you figure out that the world doesn't revolve around her?"
...
There is a scuffle on the other side of the door, and then it swings open. Blood covers Jesse's mouth, a vampire's lipstick; bits of wire stick out like a seamstress's pins. I notice the fork he is holding, and realize this is what he used to pull off his braces.
"Now you never have to take me anywhere," he says. — Jodi Picoult

Hey, Effie, watch this!" says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate clean whit his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss out to her in general and calls, "We miss you, Effie! — Suzanne Collins

I may remember you, Scarlet," he bellowed, backing up when she grabbed her fork and held it out like a dagger. She'd murdered men with less. Even immortals. "But you haven't haunted me." Motions stiff, he raised his shirt. Amid the cuts, above his heart, was a tattoo of eyes. Dark eyes. Like hers. "Don't you see? You ... haven't ... haunted ... me. — Gena Showalter

We'd come to the same fork in the road I have seen scores of patients come to, the same place I'd seen Alice Hobson come to. We were up against the unfixable. But we were desperate to believe that we weren't up against the unmanageable. Yet short of calling 911 the next time trouble hit, and letting the logic and momentum of medical solutions take over, what were we to do? Between the three of us we had 120 years of experience in medicine, but it seemed a mystery. It turned out to be an education. — Atul Gawande

When people ask me which I would rather give up, writing or medicine, it's like being asked which eye I'd prefer to have poked out with a spoon: neither, and please use a fork. — Chris Adrian

There was an extravagant winter storm outside. The tinfoil sky flashed beyond the window, rattling in the frame, and once or twice a white fork like a vein. Through the opposite window, which looked out onto the other side of the house, the light was pale, picking out where the wall was still broken from the last big storm, with the scorched telegraph pole and the burnt tree. — Olivia Sudjic

Juliette"
I inhale too quickly. A stifled cough is balloning in my throat.
His glassy green eyes glint in my direction.
"Are you not hungry?"
"No, thank you."
He licks his bottom lip into a smile.
"Don't confuse stupidity for bravery, love. I know you haven't eaten anything in days."
Something in my patioence snaps. "I'd rather die than eat your food and listen to you call me love," I tell him.
Adam drops his fork. Warner spares him a swift glance and when he looks at my way again his eyes have hardened. He holds my gaze fo a few infinitely long seconds before he pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket. He fires. — Tahereh Mafi

Drive out Nature with a fork, she comes running back. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

she gathered a leftover dish of pasta (unheated), a napkin, a glass of ice water, and a loaf of half-eaten French bread into the family room. She bumbled through the large room, past a few opened and unopened boxes, setting down her dinner atop a pair of stacked boxes near the couch. She flailed her body down onto the couch, her long, slender arms reaching out to grab the water and the pasta, when she realized she had forgotten a fork. — Joshua Wright

Well, what if ... " Scarlet listed her head. "You said the control when your animal instincts will overpower your own thoughts right? But fighting and hunting aren't the only instincts wolves have. Aren't wolves ... monogamous, for starters?" Her cheeks started to burn and she had to look away, scratching her fork into a set of initial. "And isn't the alpha male the one who's responsible for protecting everyone? Not only the pack, but his mate too?" Dropping the fork, she threw her hands into the air. "I'm not saying I think you and I are
after just
I know we just met and that's ... but it's not out of the questions, is it? That your instincts to protect me could be as strong as your instincts to kill? — Marissa Meyer

The girl's face looks greedy, haughty and very lazy. The cream-at-the-top-of-the-milkpail face of someone who will never work for anything; someone who picks up things lying on other people's dressers and is not embarrassed when found out. It is the face of a sneak who glides over to your sink to rinse the fork you have laid by her plate. An inward face
whatever it sees is its own self. You are there, it says, because I am looking at you. — Toni Morrison

Renko has just about had it. Pretty soon somebody will come out of the dugout with a fork and get him. — Jerry Coleman

The British lady, trying to make conversation, asked Zoe and me what our parents did if we were "bad girls." "When I'm bad, I get a time-out," Zoe said. "When I'm bad," I announced, "my father sticks a fork in my vagina." This is hard to share without alarm bells sounding. We're taught to listen to little girls, particularly when they say things about being sodomized with cutlery. Also my father makes sexually explicit artwork so he's probably already on the FBI's fork-in-vagina radar. — Lena Dunham

I decided the reason why Luccas rushed off was he was allergic to the food that they had brought out. Not paying compliments to the decorations, I poked at the squid with a fork making sure it was dead. Yuck, it reminded me of squid shaped spaghetti. My mind imagined it struggling to break free from my fork. Its legs flopped back and forth, to the sides almost as if it danced. Then to eat it while it squirmed after every bite; chomp, chomp, chomp. On the other hand, you could also eat it raw, but I suppose that was where the squirming comes in. Hmm ... Any who ... Before we get off topic, I finally ate it. Yes, even with the gross images in mind. — Millicent Ashby

Shelly, what is this?"
"What?"
"This." She shook her fork.
"A Rocky Mountain oyster."
"Is it a shellfish?"
"No, it's a testicle."
"Oh, my God!" She dropped the fork as if it had suddenly zapped her. "Whose?"
Dylan burst out laughing. "Not mine."
"They came from the Rocking C. I bought 'em during castration season," Shelly told her.
"You bought them? Oh, my God!"
"Well," Shelly answered as if Hope were the crazy one, "they don't just give away free oysters, you know."
"No, I don't know. I'm from California. We eat real food. We don't eat cow ball. — Rachel Gibson

I hoisted the lid off the Spode vegetable dish and, from the depths of its hand-painted butterflies and raspberries, spooned out a generous helping of peas. Using my knife as a ruler and my fork as a prod, I marshaled the peas so that they formed meticulous rows and columns across my plate: rank upon rank of little green spheres, spaced with a precision that would have delighted the heart of the most exacting Swiss watchmaker. Then, beginning at the bottom left, I speared the first pea with my fork and ate it. — Alan Bradley

As they pushed through the door a remarkable sight met their eyes: the Muskrat was sitting in the fork of a tree eating a pear.
"Where's mother?" asked Moomintroll.
"She's trying to get your father out of his room," replied the Muskrat, bitterly. "This is what comes of collecting plants. I've never quite trusted that Hemulen. Well, I hope the Muskrat heaven is a peaceful place, because I shan't be here much longer. — Tove Jansson

Right there in that room, listening to the tape Laura gave me, I decided that I wanted something more than what I'd allowed myself to become. Listening to the voices and piano notes fade in and out, I decided that I wanted to be happy. If I had to fight for things in life, I wanted to fight for something bigger than the right to eat with a fork. I wanted to love and be loved and feel alive. I had no idea how to find my way, but listening to that music wash over me, I felt, for the first time, that the struggle I faced would be worth it. — Eric Nuzum

He narrowed his eyes at me, pushed out of the booth and stomped over to the cash desk where Ash had returned and was playing a game on his mobile phone.

"Sorry, sir," he echoed, dead-pan, and then added: "She is the owner."

He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "And she's righ' crazy, so I wouldn't mess with her. She stabbed someone with a plastic fork just last week."

"A--a plastic fork?" the man said, looking over at me nervously.

"Yeah, and you would not believe the mess. A carving knife woulda made cleaner work of it."

The man slapped a few coins on the counter near the cash and, clutching the remains of his paper, dashed out the door.

"Thanks, Ash," I said, absently.

"No probs," he said. "Chasing zombies on my phone--fair inspirational, aye? — K.C. Dyer

[ ... ] I have a date this afternoon."
"Oh, Lord." Jake closed his eyes. "Who are you going to destroy now?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"The hotel would appreciate it if you'd just throw back the men you don't like without maiming them."
"I haven't maimed anyone."
"You almost drowned Lance, you scared Peter into heart palpitations, you stabbed Donald with a fork, and you hit Brad over the head with a bottle." Jake shook his head. "And they still ask you out. — Jennifer Crusie

MY LADY, WE ARE BEING HUNTED

possibility we are poisoned, possibility
there is no meat on the table, not even bait
in the trap. possibility they've already bought our parents.
possibility we'll run out of water; the salt marsh
is rising; we are followed; they've clocked our meeting
possibility this is an ambush
possibility they are downwind of us,
they've photographed the house, tattooed the children
possibility they've marked the bread with hexes
possibility the moon is theirs & netted
possibility the web of idea is upon us.
possibility we've lost this particular rumble.

who stole the sword we bedded; followed the fork
in the road where we left no footprints
who swallowed yr amber, lady, while we slept

possibility we can hide here indefinitely
possibility that we should cut & run — Diane Di Prima

Keeping the secret was going to be more difficult than Rupert could have foreseen. Every time she met a hieroglyph, she'd act like this: vibrating like a tuning fork, the gigantic brain bubbling over and spilling out its secrets: Greek and Latin and Coptic and names of scholars and who believed what and this alphabet versus that one and phonetic interpretations versus symbolic ones. — Loretta Chase

A man must know his destiny ... if he does not recognize it, then he is lost. By this I mean, once, twice, or at the very most, three times, fate will reach out and tap a man on the shoulder ... if he has the imagination, he will turn around and fate will point out to him what fork in the road he should take, if he has the guts, he will take it. — George S. Patton Jr.

The radicals are really always saying the same thing. They do not change; everybody else changes. They are accused of the most incompatible crimes, of egoism and mania for power, indifference to the fate of their own cause, fanaticism, triviality, want of humor, buffoonery and irreverence. But they sound a certain note. Hence the great practical power of consistent radicals. To all appearance nobody follows them, yet everyone believes them. They hold a tuning-fork and sound A, and everybody knows it really is A, though the time-honored pitch is G flat. The community cannot get that A out of its head. Nothing can prevent an upward tendency in the popular tone so long as the real A is kept sounding. — John Jay Chapman

A man is allowed to visit Heaven and Hell. In Hell, he sees a large gathering of people sitting around a long table set with rich and delectable food. And yet these people are miserable and starving. He soon discovers that the reason for their dreadful state is that the spoons and forks provided for them are longer than their arms. As a result, they are unable to bring the food to their mouths and feed themselves. Then the man is shown Heaven. He finds the same table set out there, with the same extra-long eating utensils. But, in Heaven, instead of just trying to feed their own selves, each person uses his or her spoon and fork to feed one another. They are all well-fed and happy. — Howard Sasportas

The paths fork and divide. With each step you take through Destiny's garden, you make a choice; and every choice determines future paths. However, at the end of a lifetime of walking you might look back, and see only one path stretching out behind you; or look ahead, and see only darkness. — Neil Gaiman

Prayer is actually setting out a tuning fork. All you can really do in the spiritual life is to get tuned to receive the always present message. Once you are tuned, you will receive, and it as nothing do to with worthiness or the group you belong to but only the inner resonance and a capacity for mutuality. The Sender is absolutely and always present and broadcasting; the only change is with the receiver station. — John Predmore

He is quiet and small, he is black
From his ears to the tip of his tail;
He can creep through the tiniest crack
He can walk on the narrowest rail.
He can pick any card from a pack,
He is equally cunning with dice;
He is always deceiving you into believing
That he's only hunting for mice.
He can play any trick with a cork
Or a spoon and a bit of fish-paste;
If you look for a knife or a fork
And you think it is merely misplaced -
You have seen it one moment, and then it is gawn!
But you'll find it next week lying out on the lawn.
And we all say: OH!
Well I never!
Was there ever
A Cat so clever
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees! — T. S. Eliot

Cromwell raised a brow. "You can't even boil an egg, son." He paused. "Or toast bread without burning it."
I couldn't help it, I laughed. "Nice."
Hayden frowned at me. "I can toast bread."
"You tried to shove a fork in the toaster to get your bread out- that was only a few years ago."
"Oh. Wow." I grinned at Hayden.
"Thanks, Dad." Hayden pushed himself off the counter. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

if one day, that woman would seek her out, and for whatever balance of time, Cindy would have a daughter again. For now, she would return to her kitchen, wash the plate, the cup, and the fork, and just live in the world she had created, the world where the two of them existed, and nothing more. — J. Ryan Stradal

My mom was a garage sale person, save money. Come on in to the garage sale, you might find a shirt. She'd get in that garage sale and point stuff out to you. There's a good fork for a nickel. Yeah, that's beautiful. It's a little high. If it were three cents I'd snap it up. — Louie Anderson

Driving down the wrong road and knowing it, The fork years behind, how many have thought To pull up on the shoulder and leave the car Empty, strike out across the fields; and how many Are still mazed among dock and thistle, Seeking the road they should have taken? — Damon Knight

To appreciate the importance of fitting every human soul for independent action, think for a moment of the immeasurable solitude of self. We come into the world alone, unlike all who have gone before us; we leave it alone under circumstances peculiar to ourselves ... We ask for the complete development of every indicidual, first, for his own benefit and happiness. In fitting out an army we give each soldier his own knapsack, arms, powder, his blanket, cup, knife, fork, and spoon. We provide alike for all their individual necessities, then each man bears his own burden. — Jennifer Michael Hecht

Let's say a person is down in the dumps, or maybe just lazy, and they stop doing the dishes. Soon the dishes are piled sky-high and it seems impossible to even clean a fork. So the person starts eating with dirty forks out of dirty dishes and this makes the person feel like a homeless person. So they stop bathing. Which makes it hard to leave the house. The person begins to throw trash anywhere and pee in cups because they're closer to the bed. We've all been this person, so there is no place for judgment, but the solution is simple:Fewer dishes. — Miranda July

When Theolyn died, the humans had built an enormous pyre and placed his body at the center. How was [Veka] supposed to know humans cremated their dead instead of cooking them? She had figured it out quickly enough, but not before Jimar and his ilk had spotted her standing at the pyre, fork in hand. — Jim C. Hines

He changed his final wad up at the train station. Which was a sad place now. There were homeless people and disturbed people hanging around. There were furtive men with swivel eyes, their hands thrust deep in capacious pockets. There was spray-can graffiti on the walls. Nothing compared to the South Bronx or inner-city Detroit or South-Central LA. But unusual for Germany. Reunification had been a strain. Economically, and socially. And mentally. He had watched it. Like living a comfortable life in a nice little house with your family. And then a whole bunch of relatives moves in. From someplace where they don't really know how to use a knife and fork. Ignorant and stunted people. But German like you. As if a brother had been taken away at birth and locked in a closet. Then in his mid-forties he comes stumbling out again, pale and hunched and blinking. A tough situation to manage. He — Lee Child

I see a girl caught in the remains of a holiday gone bad, with her flesh picked off day after day as the carcass dries out. The knife and fork are abviously middle-class sensibilities. The palm tree is a nice touch. A broken dream,perhaps? Plastic honeymoon, deserted island? Oh, If you put in a slice of pumpkin pie, it could be a desserted island! (Pg 64) — Laurie Halse Anderson

My mouth is full of Oreo, ice cream, fudge, and Cool Whip, so I just nod.
This is heaven. I'm moving into one of their guest rooms.
So, Laur, do you want to come with us tomorrow? You can help me plan out furniture while Nick and Ryan dig for grubs,' she says, licking her fork.
Can we keep the rest of this dessert?
She grins. 'Sure.'
Then I'll come.'
She watches me put another bite in my mouth and close my eyes.'You're pitiful.'
No, just a chocoholic.'
She shakes her head. 'Same thing. — Erynn Mangum

You're the shape-changer aren't you?" he said. "Magnus Bane told me about you. No mark on you at all, they say."
Tessa swallowed and looked him straight in the eye. They were discordantly human eyes, ordinary in his extraordinary face. "No. No mark."
He grinned around his fork. "I do suppose they've looked everywhere?"
"I'm sure Will's tryed," said Jessamine in a bored tone. Tessa's silverware clattered to the plate. Jessamine, who had been mashing her peas to the side of the plate with her knife, looked out when Charlotte let out an aghast, "Jessamine! — Cassandra Clare

We run down the right fork, Manchee at our heels, the night and a dusty road stretching out in front of us, an army and a disaster behind us, me and Viola, running side by side. — Patrick Ness

What is a Communist? One who hath yearnings For equal division of unequal earnings, Idler or bungler, or both, he is willing, To fork out his copper and pocket your shilling. — Ebenezer Elliott

And all this business about what knife and fork you eat from, it's a deliberate puzzle set out to make a simple bloke like me feel like a stranger. Whatever you pick up isn't going to change what the food tastes like, but Effie presses my knee hard if I gets it wrong. — Terry Pratchett

Do you think Bubbles wants Chinese food
because it's made out of cats?" Genevieve questioned, shoveling a big bite into her mouth.
"Genevieve, that's just gross and wrong. Don't say things like that. Bubbles is a dog, and their stomachs are bottomless pits. They'll eat anything and
everything in sight."
Genevieve quickly swallowed. "Well, Bobby said in China they eat cats."
"Gen, I assure you, we.are.not eating cats," I responded slowly trying to make sure another food wasn't crossed off her 'will eat' list. It was ever growing shorter.
"All lies!" Genevieve proclaimed, sticking her fork high in the air with a piece of chicken, only to have it fall, never touching the floor. "See? Cat! — Ottilie Weber

She misunderstood my method, in my opinion, not realizing that my approach, rather obscure to those unfamiliar, was based on the idea that in my struggle with reality, I could exhaust any opponent with whom I was grappling, like one can wear out an olive, for example, before successfully stabbing it with a fork, and that my propensity not to hasten matters, far from having a negative effect, in fact prepared for me a fertile ground where, when things seemed ripe, I could make my move with ease. — Jean-Philippe Toussaint

Jim walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a white towel around his hips and nothing else. His skin glistened with dampness - he had obviously just taken a shower. I stared at him in horror. He nodded to my aunt, my mother, and the two other women. "Ladies." Then he walked to my silverware drawer, got a fork, took a plate out of my cabinet, walked to the breadbox, speared the steak with his fork, put it on the plate, turned around and walked out. This did not just happen. It did not happen. Aulia looked at me with eyes as big as dessert plates and mouthed, "Wow." All four of them stared at me. — Nalini Singh

Now," Clary said. "I don't want to wait. Do you?"
He didn't reply, just got up off the floor and picked his shirt. He looked at Clary, and almost smiled. "If we're going to the Silent City, you might want to get dressed. I mean, I appreciate the bra-and-panties look, but I don't know if the Silent Brothers will. There are only a few of them left, and I don't want them to die of excitement."
Clary got up off the bed and threw a pillow at him, mostly out of relief. She reached for her clothes and began to pull her shirt on. Just before it went over her head, she caught sight of the knife lying on the bedspread, gleaming like a fork of silvery flame. — Cassandra Clare

Jayden went for my fries, ignoring Anna's narrowed gaze. "Thanks, babe."
"You two know each other?" Jo gestured between Jayden and me with her fork.
Before I could nod, he dropped an arm over my shoulders. "She's my bae."
I grinned.
"Bae?" Keira sighed. "I hate that word. Do you know what it really means?"
"Poop," I answered without thinking. "In Danish."
My eyes widened. Holy crap. I'd spoken without hesitation at lunch! Holy crap! No one recognized my internal freak-out over it, but I couldn't believe it. I sat there and spoke with no problem.
I needed to give myself a cookie.
Anna giggled. "Oh, man. I know. I know. Still think it's a cute word."
Across from her, Keira rolled her eyes. "It literally means shit."
"Mallory is the shit, though. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

She shouldn't have been beautiful - she was too forward, too freckled, too thin. Still ... Oh, to hell with it all. He wasn't hungry, anyway. He reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. She drifted near, until she was close enough to kiss. Close enough for him to see the green of her eyes, widening as he turned her hand over, palm up.
"There's something I've wanted to do since the first moment I saw you," he said. It came out close to a whisper.
"Oh?" He could feel the puff of breath from that word against his nose.
"Don't even think of arguing."
She shook her head. Her lips opened, an impossible, inviting fraction.
He set the fork in the palm of her hand and closed his fingers tightly around hers. "I want you to eat," he said. — Courtney Milan

The dog was dead. There was a garden fork sticking out of the dog ... I decided the dog was probably killed with the fork because I could not see any other wounds in the dog and I do not think you would stick a garden fork into a dog after it had died for some other reason, like cancer, for example, or a road accident. But I could not be certain about this. — Mark Haddon

Now I know what a piece of bacon feels like when it is suddenly picked out of the pan on a fork and put back on the shelf!"
"No you don't!" he heard Dori answering, "because the bacon knows that it will get back in the pan sooner or later; and it is to be hoped we shan't. Also eagles aren't forks! — J.R.R. Tolkien

There's a very mean girl down the hall who's trying to get me fired. I'm no good with confrontation, so whenever I say, "Have a wonderful day," to her out loud, I'm really saying, "Be nice to me or I will stab you in the face with a fork," in my head. I wish her a wonderful day at least once an hour. She's starting to get paranoid and jumpy about it, but there's really nothing she can do, because she can't complain about me wishing her a wonderful day without sounding totally insane. This is why you should never mess with nonconfrontational people. Because they're too unstable to second-guess. And because they're totally the kind of people who could suddenly snap, and stab you in the face with a fork. — Jenny Lawson

When you strike a tuning fork you activate it to send out a particular sound or frequency. Now, in a room filled with tuning forks - only those that are tuned to the exact same frequency will begin to vibrate in response. They will automatically connect and respond to the frequency that matches their own. So the idea here is to tune yourself to resonate at a frequency that is in harmony with what you want to attract. In order to create a positive future, you need to keep your energy, thoughts, and feelings in the positive range. — Jack Canfield

I have a plan."
He groaned. "I was afraid of that."
"My plans are not terrible."
"Isabelle's plans are terrible." He pointed a finger at her. "Your plans are suicidal. At best."
She sat back, her arms crossed over her chest. "Do you want to hear it or not? You have to keep it a secret."
"I would pluck out my own eyes with a fork before I would give away your secrets," Simon said, then looked anxious. "Wait a second. Do you think that's likely to be required? — Cassandra Clare

The window rattles without you, you bastard. The trees are the cause, rattling in the wind, you jerk, the wind scraping those leaves and twigs against my window. They'll keep doing this, you terrible husband, and slowly wear away our entire apartment building. I know all these facts about you and there is no longer any use for them. What will I do with your license plate number, and where you hid the key outside so we'd never get locked out of this shaky building? What good does it do me, your pants size and the blue cheese preference for dressing? Who opens the door in the morning now, and takes the newspaper out of the plastic bag when it rains? I'll never get back all the hours I was nice to your parents. I nudge my cherry tomatoes to the side of the plate, bastard, but no one is waiting there with a fork to eat them. I miss you and I love you, bastard bastard bastard, come and clean the onion skins out of the crisper and trim back the tree so I can sleep at night. — Daniel Handler

She serves me a piece of it a few minutes
out of the oven. A little steam rises
from the slits on top. Sugar and spice -
cinnamon - burned into the crust.
But she's wearing these dark glasses
in the kitchen at ten o'clock
in the morning - everything nice -
as she watches me break off
a piece, bring it to my mouth,
and blow on it. My daughter's kitchen,
in winter. I fork the pie in
and tell myself to stay out of it.
She says she loves him. No way
could it be worse. — Raymond Carver

What does that mean? Making out?" Galen says between bites. Emma puts her fork down. "It means, Galen, that you'll need to force yourself to kiss me. Like you mean it. For a long time. Think you can do that? Do Syrena kiss?"
He tries to swallow the bite he forgot to chew. Force myself? I'll be lucky if I can stop myself. — Anna Banks

The thought of my mother talking to me about sex makes me want to stab my eyes out with a fork, gouge even deeper and scramble my brains to prevent the conversation from ever happening. — Addison Moore

Slight and ridiculous as the incident was, it made him appear such a little fiend, and withal such a keen and knowing one, that the old woman felt too much afraid of him to utter a single word, and suffered herself to be led with extraordinary politeness to the breakfast-table. Here he by no means diminished the impression he had just produced, for he ate hard eggs, shell and all, devoured gigantic prawns with the heads and tails on, chewed tobacco and water-cresses at the same time and with extraordinary greediness, drank boiling tea without winking, bit his fork and spoon till they bent again, and in short performed so many horrifying and uncommon acts that the women were nearly frightened out of their wits, and began to doubt if he were really a human creature. — Charles Dickens

We took a right at the fork, heading farther north. The charred houses continued. To the right, a large sign nailed to an old telephone post shouted DANGER in huge red letters. Underneath in crisp black letters was written:
IM-1: Infectious Magic Area
Do Not Enter
Authorized Personnel Only
A second smaller sign under the first one, written on a piece of plastic with permanent marker, read:
Keep out, stupid.
"We aren't going to keep out, are we?" Ascanio asked.
"No."
"Awesome. — Ilona Andrews

It was hard to get lost in Missoula even if you wanted to. Wherever you were, all you had to do to get your bearings was look around and find the big letter M, embossed in white halfway up the steep shoulder of grass that reared on the south bank of the Clark Fork River. Though only a hill, it was called Mount Sentinel and if you had the legs and lungs and inclination to hike the trail that zigzagged up it, you could stand by the M and gaze out across the town at a travel-brochure shot of forest and mountain dusted from early fall with snow. — Nicholas Evans

You'd think that people would have figured out by now that sticking a fork into the toaster is perhaps not the best idea. Oh well, score another point for Darwinism, I suppose. — Gary Whitta

He started to hand her a fork but paused, glancing at her and then it, and back. Wariness narrowed his eyes.
"For real? Seriously?" She held out her hand, palm up. "What do you think? I'm going to try to prong you to death? I don't know who that would be more embarrassing for - you dying by fork or me needing to use something so silly to take you out. — Laurann Dohner

I'm going to need some kind of incentive program if I'm going to fork out this kind of money."
I held back a laugh. "Incentive program, huh? So what's a stove worth these days?"
"Depends. Do you have a nurse's uniform?"
I raised a mischievous brow. "No, but I have a Princess Leia slave costume."
A deep hunger flashed in his irises. It caused a warmth to flood my abdomen, and only partly because he knew what a Princess Leia slave costume consisted of. — Darynda Jones

Augustin stood there looking down at him and cursed him speaking slowly clearly bitterly and contemptuously and cursing as steadily as though he were dumping manure on a field lifting it with a dung fork out of a wagon. — Ernest Hemingway,

Keep your mouth shut around me," he says, his voice low, "or I will do this again, only next time, I'll shove it right through your esophagus."
"That's enough," Evelyn says. Edward drops the fork and releases Peter. Then he walks across the room and sits next to the person who called him "Eddie" a moment before.
"I don't know if you know this," Tobias says, "but Edward is a little unstable."
"I'm getting that," I say.
"That Drew guy, who helped Peter perform that butter-knife maneuver," Tobias says. "Apparently when he got kicked out of Dauntless, he tried to join the same group of factionless Edward was a part of. Notice that you haven't seen Drew anywhere."
"Did Edward kill him?" I say.
"Nearly," Tobias says. "Evidently that's why that other transfer--Myra, I think her name was?--left Edward. Too gentle to bear it. — Veronica Roth

For answer Mr Flay shot his head forward out of his collar and croaked, 'Silence! you kitchen thing. Hold your tongue you greasy fork. — Mervyn Peake

In Einstein's equation, time is a river. It speeds up, meanders, and slows down. The new wrinkle is that it can have whirlpools and fork into two rivers. So, if the river of time can be bent into a pretzel, create whirlpools and fork into two rivers, then time travel cannot be ruled out. — Michio Kaku

Time is the great healer. No matter how difficult the circumstances that cross our path, it takes time for our emotions, minds and spirit to process what's happened. Rushing to make choices too quickly can send us down the wrong fork in the road. It's normal and natural to feel overwhelmed, out of sorts and confused when a major change knocks on our door. While you may be forced to make some choices quickly, delay as many choices as possible until time has worked its magic. When you feel on solid ground again, you will be ready to make better choices about the future. — Don Shapiro

A man has a right to use a saw, an axe, a plane, separately; may he not combine their uses on the same piece of wood? He has a right to use his knife to cut his meat, a fork to hold it; may a patentee take from him the right to combine their use on the same subject? Such a law, instead of enlarging our conveniences, as was intended, would most fearfully abridge them, and crowd us by monopolies out of the use of the things we have. — Thomas Jefferson

He'd felt like a jack-o-lantern for the past few days, as if his guts had been yanked out with a fork and dumped in a heap while a grinning smile stayed plastered on his face. — Cassandra Clare

Pulling her eyes away, she figured it was best to keep such questions to herself. "You could have just, you know, asked me out instead," she offered, though she wasn't sure why.
John let out a soft chuckle. "Very true. I guess I just ... I wanted to keep you safe."
"Safe? From what?" Evangeline suddenly felt heat rush her face. Was this man just paranoid or what? "Safe from this? Or from you?"
He looked up, placing his fork down on the plate. His stare was expressionless and she suddenly regretted her brazen accusation. "Both." His reply had been simple, direct, stern. "Those people who did this to me, they'll do worse to you if they think that we're involved ... if they think that their message wasn't clear enough. — Shawn Kirsten Maravel

You won't even see what is put right on the table before you. Men. If it was raining soup you'd be out there with a fork. — Robin Hobb

(1) When a situation has become too frustrating, a quandary too persistently insolvable; when dealing with the issue is generating chronic discontent, infringing on freedom, and inhibiting growth, it may be time to quit beating one's head against the wall, reach for a big fat stick of metaphoric dynamite, light the fuse, and blast the whole unhappy business nine miles past oblivion. (2) After making an extreme effort, after pulling out all the stops, one is still unable to score Tibetan peach pie, take it as a signal to relax, grin, pick up a fork, and go for a slice of the apple. — Tom Robbins

You can drive out nature with a pitch fork
But it always comes roaring back again. — Tom Waits

The feeling of being trapped, of being helpless against his strength, his lust, and what my body needed was almost overwhelming. My eyes shuttered closed at the effort of not struggling in his harsh grasp. He whispered against my face, and I could not focus enough to see him. "Do you want to ride the storm?" His breath was hot against my skin. His voice promised no gentleness, no compromise. I knew the kind of sex he was offering, and the thought of it tightened things low in my body, drew another small sound from my throat. "Yes," I whispered, "yes." The roll of thunder echoed down the hallway, shuddering between the stone walls. The sound seemed to vibrate out of his body and into mine as if my body were a tuning fork struck against the rim of some great metal cup. His voice growled against my skin, with the taste of thunder in it. "Good," he said and forced me to my knees. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Hermione looked at him, not blinking. It was a moment before she replied, "I know that you served your time on Azkaban Station." She looked out the porthole into the inky blackness of space, twirling her fork between her fingers. "Everyone here is hoping for a clean slate when they reach Alpha Centauri, but that will only happen if we all agree to forget and forgive the past. As far as I'm concerned, you've earned your redemption. — Refictionista

He hadn't spoken a word since they'd left the manor except to snap out directions, telling her which way to turn at a fork in the road, or ordering her to skirt a pothole. Even then she doubted if he would have minded much if she'd fallen into the pothole, except that it would have slowed them down. — Cassandra Clare

Livie, I think you're completely fucked up.
Chunks of cheesecake fly out of my mouth and splatter against the deck's glass panel as I choke on my fork. My sister has a twisted sense of humor. — K.A. Tucker

I don't know. I think I've seen this movie, and it doesn't turn out so well for me."
I smiled at that, even though she hadn't meant it to be funny. "How much you want to bet? I'm sure you've seen nature shows on alpha males or pack leaders or whatever - the whole flock of sheep thing, right?" I turned my smile extra confident because I know it annoys her when I act cocky. "Aves,Grayson Kennedy is at the top of the Spanish Fork High food chain. I'm the king of the jungle. My friends will like you because I like you. — Kelly Oram

For a smart material to be able to send out a more complex signal it needs to be nonlinear. If you hit a tuning fork twice as hard it will ring twice as loud but still at the same frequency. That's a linear response. If you hit a person twice as hard they're unlikely just to shout twice as loud. That property lets you learn more about the person than the tuning fork. — Neil Gershenfeld

Fiona fixed a slice of bread to the toasting fork and held it out to the flames. So began the ritual. Hot butter melted off the slices of toast and dribbled onto their fingers. — Alex Nye

Mrs. Fisher had never cared for macaroni, especially not this long, worm-shaped variety. She found it difficult to eat
slippery, wriggling off her fork, making her look, she felt, undignified when, having got it as she supposed into her mouth, ends of it yet hung out. Always, too, when she ate it she was reminded of Mr. Fisher. He had during their married life behaved very much like macaroni. He had slipped, he had wriggled, he had made her feel undignified, and when at last she had got him safe, as she thought, there had invariably been little bits of him that still, as it were, hung out. — Elizabeth Von Arnim

He gave Sophie the smile which had no doubt charmed the Witch of the Waste and possibly Lettie too, firing it along the fork, across the cream, straight into Sophie's eyes, dazzlingly. "If you can bully Calcifer, the King should give you no trouble at all."
Sophie stared through the dazzle and said nothing. This, she thought, was where she slithered out. She was leaving. It was too bad about Calcifer's contract. She had had enough of Howl. First green slime, then glaring at her for something Calcifer had done quite freely, and now this! Tomorrow she would slip off to Upper Folding and tell Lettie all about it. — Diana Wynne Jones

Impossible to know. The thing is, you take a fork in the road, it doesn't always work out for the better . . . but sometimes it does. It must. — John Sandford

Shit. I was stuck. I suspected Dick would skip the hassle of having to ferry me back and forth to talk to someone and instead convince my mom to toss me into a mental ward where I could stay out of his hair and he'd have her all to himself. I imagined myself wearing institutional pajamas and having to eat everything with a spoon because no one would trust me with a fork or knife. Most likely my roommate would be some freakish, giant-size woman who didn't speak because she'd chewed off her own tongue. — Eileen Cook

Isabel is a very talented photographer," she says. "Indeed, I am! I like to take photographs of babies nestling in oversized teacups." I spear a pea with my fork and hold it up. "Or sometimes I dress them in little green pea costumes and arrange them as if they're peering out of gigantic pods. — Lauren Fox

Travis tapped my apple with his fork. "You gonna eat that, Pidge?"
"No, you can have it, Baby."
Heat consumed my ears when America's head jerked to look at me.
"It just came out," I said, shaking my head. I peeked up at Travis, whose expression was a mixture of amusement and adoration. — Jamie McGuire