Weekend Food Quotes & Sayings

Harvard neuroscientists Jason Mitchell and Diana Tamir found that disclosing information about the self is intrinsically rewarding. In one study, Mitchell and Tamir hooked subjects up to brain scanners and asked them to share either their own opinions and attitudes ("I like snowboarding") or the opinions and attitudes of another person ("He likes puppies"). They found that sharing personal opinions activated the same brain circuits that respond to rewards like food and money. So talking about what you did this weekend might feel just as good as taking a delicious bite of double chocolate cake. — Jonah Berger

I don't think I have an unkind word for any.Except Muslims. I've been cross with them since 9/11 2001. I can't remember why but it was something bad. — Ann Coulter

Songwriting is like going to church. I'm connecting to something, and it's rewarding in really important ways. I don't need to share it with anyone to feel good about it. — Juliana Hatfield

Whoever would have guessed that in the land of cheap sausages and mashed potatoes there could be such a change which would actually bring the French from Paris every weekend to invade Britain en masse to eat great food and drink great wine. — Robin Leach

Shura," she whispered. "I'm going to have a baby."
At first she didn't think Alexander heard her, he was mute so long. "You what?" he said in horror.
"I'm going to have a baby," she mouthed, her shoulders quaking, her swollen lips quivering. — Paullina Simons

It was as if we'd only been gone the weekend. Or had we been gone a lifetime. Part of that was because when you've lived in Alaska, living in other places seems easier, less challenging, less threatening. Alaska had enlarged each of us. No one is ever the same after coming back from Alaska. — Peter Jenkins

But you can't stay with people because of guilt. Or because they can drive a speedboat. — Sophie Kinsella

Most of what presents itself to us in the marketplace as a product is in truth a web of relationships, between people, yes, but also between ourselves and all the other species on which we still depend. Eating and drinking especially implicate us in the natural world in ways that the industrial economy, with its long and illegible supply chains, would have us forget. The beer in that bottle, I'm reminded as soon as I brew it myself, ultimately comes not from a factory but from nature - from a field of barley snapping in the wind, from a hops vine clambering over a trellis, from a host of invisible microbes feasting on sugars. It took the carefully orchestrated collaboration of three far-flung taxonomic kingdoms - plants, animals, and fungi - to produce that ale. To make it yourself once in a while, to handle the barley and inhale the aroma of hops and yeast, becomes, among other things, a form of observance, a weekend ritual of remembrance. — Michael Pollan

If Jesus didn't rise from the dead, an even greater miracle happened: 12 relatively uneducated guys changed the world and were martyred to protect a lie. — Mark Hart

For the last hour of our trip Jeremy ran through the do's and don'ts. Most of them were don'ts. The simple act of dining now came with even more rules than Miss Fishton had for the kindergarten sandbox. I couldn't raid the icebox. I couldn't ask anyone except Jeremy for between-meal snacks. I had to eat with utensils. I had to chew with my mouth shut. I had to sit with the other Pack youth. I couldn't touch any food before everyone older than I had taken their share. I couldn't take seconds until everyone older than I had taken seconds. I couldn't eat other people's scraps. I couldn't eat food I found on the floor. With all these rules I began to fear I might have to starve, rather than risk disobedience. I hoped it'd be a short weekend. — Kelley Armstrong

I would say, stay the hell away from the party scene. Anything you put in front of your goal, and especially something like that, whether it's too much gambling, too much food, too much cold beers on the weekend - anything that you put in front of the prize is going to end up getting in the way and hurting you in the end. — Brad Renfro

I am still jealous that Phoebe's mother came back and mine did not. I miss my mother. — Sharon Creech

Guy between boyfriends #6 and #7
Paul Diaz, Twenty-Something
He was in her watercolor class, so cute and the sweet kind of shy. They obviously clicked, the attraction thrilling between them, inspiring her to relish the infatuation freshman-style and write his name in her notebook in curvy, flowery script. She gave him openings but guessed he was too timid to ask her out. The day after finals, she ran into him at the deli on campus and thought she had nothing to lose.
"My work is having this fancy dinner party next weekend, the food's supposed to be great. Would you like to go with me?"
"Oh, uh, maybe, I'll have to check," he said. Then, "What was your name again?"
There's always something to lose. — Shannon Hale

They needed a date. They had been saying that for months. He would give her a date. He imagined grandiose affairs with fine clothes and elaborate food in luxurious surroundings. A film of her choice or a couple hours in a bookstore would have suited her, and him. This weekend would pass like all the others. Time would steadily work its way past them. Monday would bring another airplane. — John T. Sonne

When I say I want to possess a woman for a day, maybe a whole weekend, it's like I'm inviting her to a dinner party. I'm making exactly the food I want, serving the drinks I like, planning everything. But she's the guest. Just because I'm in charge doesn't mean I won't serve her a damn good meal. — Cara McKenna

This vodka is delicious. Not very strong, though." "That's because it's water." "Hmmmph. — Max Monroe

This is going to become a battle for access to your home and office plus mobility. It's about who can provide the biggest and least expensive and fastest pipe to your home and office and offer you a mobility feature. — Steve Largent

The day dawns smiling, rational and bright, We're tangled in a net of dreams at night. From green fields we come home contentedly, 11770 A bird croaks: meaning what? - catastrophe! Bedeviled by superstitions, we imagine The least thing is a sign, a portent, omen. And so we tremble, feeling lost, alone. The door creaks and we stiffen - there's no one. — Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

My kids know there's no candy, no soda, until the weekend. Those are the days they get to indulge in their sweets. We're big on organic food. I'm not a diet guy; I don't believe in diets. I just believe in a great meal plan. — Donald Driver

Eloise knew that it was so much more complicated than that. There are no trades in this life, and depression is a dark, dark doorway some people have no choice but to walk through. — Lisa Unger

Dan reached out, his hand rested on the other's abs, under the blankets. Felt heat creep from the skin, feeding it back again. "How long did they have you? You look like a fair few beatings at least."
Vadim looked down at his body, tensed the muscle to keep that weight there, nice and snug. "Two days. Like weekend with in-laws, eh?" Tried a smile. "Bad food, and they hate you."
Nodding, Dan's eyes narrowed, could just about imagine what it had been like. "I don't take kindly to those who try to take away from me what is mine. — Marquesate

Everyday, you get home from the shops with a bag of cat food and bin-liners and realise that, yet again, you failed to have cosmetic surgery, book a cheap weekend in Paris, change your name to something more glamorous, but the fifth series of The Sopranos, divorce your spouse, sell up and move to Devon, or adopt a child from Guatemala. — Lynne Truss

Neither of us is gonna be able to walk tomorrow."
"Who needs ta walk? Dunno 'bout you but I ain't plannin' ta leave this bed."
"What, we just lie here naked all weekend?"
"Somethin' wrong with that?"
"Might scandalize the marshals when they bring in my food."
"Aw, who the fuck cares."
Jack arched one eyebrow at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with D? — Jane Seville

It's sort of cliche, but when you're playing drunk, your character is trying to appear sober. — Corey Stoll

There was so much unpleasantness in the workaday world. The last thing you ever wanted to do at night was go home and do the dishes. And just the idea that part of the weekend had to be dedicated to getting the oil changed and doing the laundry was enough to make those of us still full from lunch want to lie down in the hallway and force anyone dumb enough to remain committed to walk around us. It might not be so bad. They could drop food down to us, or if that was not possible, crumbs from their PowerBars and bags of microwave popcorn surely would end up within an arm's length sooner or later. The cleaning crews, needing to vacuum, would inevitably turn us on our sides, preventing bedsores, and we would make little toys out of runs in the carpet, which, in moments of extreme regression, we might suck on for comfort. — Joshua Ferris

The dehydrator blows warm air on your food for hours, sometimes days. It reminds me of the temperature and intensity of dog's breath. So imagine a German shepherd exhaling on your fruit for a weekend. — A. J. Jacobs

[Historian] Kevin Starr has written that "the San Diego free speech battles revealed the depths of reaction possible in the threatened middle- and lower-middle classes of California." He argues that vigilantes were recruited from an anxious petty bourgeoisie, "who were uncertain and insecure in what they had gained or thought they had gained by coming to California." As in late Weimar Germany, "the oligarchy, which is to say, the upper-middle and upper classes, loathed and feared the [Industrial Workers of the World]; but oligarchs did not take to the streets as vigilantes. They did, however, encourage the lower-middle classes to do such work. — Justin Akers Chacon