Breakfast Quotes
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If my tone is mocking, the tone of someone accustomed to helplessness, this is natural: the poet is a condemned man for whom the State will not even buy breakfast - and as someone said, 'If you’re going to hang me, you mustn’t expect to be able to intimidate me into sparing your feelings during the execution.'
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English muffins with avocado is one of my favorite breakfasts.
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I have a huge breakfast every morning because I never know if I'll have time for lunch, especially during Fashion Week. It keeps my mood positive all day. And my parents taught me to have tons of fruit and vegetables, which I think helps my skin.
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Breakfast is so important, so I'll make an omelet with cheese and deli meats, and then I'll eat muesli and yogurt mixed with fruit or oatmeal with fruit - and then a side of baked beans.
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I slept with this girl, and in the morning I asked her if she wanted breakfast in bed. She said one pig in the blanket was enough.
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A girl once came to my beery flat in Kensal Green, opened the blinds and cooked me breakfast. I married her.
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I never eat any breakfast.
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I grew up in a place where books were very, very scarce, and I loved to read. I used to read the writing on my breakfast Ovaltine over and over again because it was in front of me, and I couldn't help but read anything that was in front of me.
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In these days a man is nobody unless his biography is kept so far posted up that it may be ready for the national breakfast-table on the morning after his demise.
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I've done everything from stocking shelves at a natural food co-op, to baking bagels at Brueggers and bussing tables. Then I realized that jobs suck, but if you could get up at 6 A.M. and bake your own breakfast, that is very satisfying.
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Ask any worker at Starbucks, Cosi, McDonald's or Walmart, 'How many jobs do you have?' and likely he or she will tell you: 'Two.' I know colleagues who've had breakfast at one store, and gone to lunch in another, only to find the same person waiting on them.
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Sometimes, I wonder what I'm doing back in Los Angeles, but when you look out there... How can you complain when you see a whale cresting, matter-of-factly, as you make your breakfast?
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The worst of sleeping out of doors is that you wake up so dreadfully early. And when you wake up you have to get up because the ground is so hard you are uncomfortable. And it makes matters worse if there is nothing but apples for breakfast and you have had nothing but apples for supper the night before.
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Breakfast is a notoriously difficult meal to serve with a flourish.
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No one cares what you ate for breakfast. Unless it's something really spectacular, don't tweet me your breakfast, I don't care.
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Even when I was very small, my mother treated me like a great novelist. She was like: 'Oh, I'm sitting at the breakfast table with Flaubert,' and would say, if she burned some food or was late arriving, 'Don't put this in your novel!'
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I have to have breakfast, and breakfast has to be eggs!
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You've got to set yourself up to be as healthy as you can. The thing we tend to do is when it gets to be a bit too hard, we actually opt out for the absolute worst option. For example, if you're in a rush in a morning and you feel like you don't have time to make breakfast, you skip it.
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My father asserted that there was no better place to bring up a family than in a rural environment.... There's something about getting up at 5 a.m., feeding the stock and chickens, and milking a couple of cows before breakfast that gives you a lifelong respect for the price of butter and eggs.
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I enjoyed my breakfast this morning, and I think that was a good thing and do not think it was condemned by God. But I do not think myself a good man for enjoying it.
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By God, I could make myself bring her that economically halved grapefruit, that sugarless breakfast.
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Inspiration can show up almost any time, though I have yet to see anyone scratching out melodic ideas on a restaurant napkin as legend would have us believe. I think inspiration comes from concentration, and early on I learned about Mark Twain's habit of leaving for his study after breakfast and not reappearing until the end of the day, ready to read to his family what he had just written. That set a good example for me, although I didn't copy his habit of taking twelve cigars along.
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Even when the poet seems most himself . . . he is never the bundle of accident and incoherence that sits down to breakfast; he has been reborn as an idea, something intended, complete.
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In England people actually try to be brilliant at breakfast. That is so dreadful of them! Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast.
