Quotes About Breakfast

Wil ate without enthusiasm. His bacon tasted like nothing. Like a dead animal, fried. His eggs, aborted chickens.

One's imagination is kindled thinking about the conversation of the innkeeper and his family at the breakfast table. Did anyone mention the arrival of the young couple the night before? Did anyone ask about their welfare? Did anyone comment on the pregnancy of the girl on the donkey? Perhaps. Perhaps someone raised the subject. But, at best, it was raised, not discussed. There was nothing that novel about them. They were, possibly, one of several families turned away that night.

He laughed against her, his chest rumbling with the effort. "Well, right now we're going to go eat breakfast and afterward I'm taking you shopping for some clothes. And if that doesn't say I love you, I don't know what does. I don't go shopping for anyone.

I had a]...Second bowl of oatmeal. It was a little bit gloppy.

I want my breakfast.

Yes. I remember." His voice had deepened. I remember. Mina did, too, every conversation they'd had over breakfast, and it made her heart ache. Such a strange thing... She suddenly couldn't laugh anymore.

Good bed, deep sleep, big breakfast, and one could outpace anything except a Night Person. Their ways were mysterious and full of cats.

The tray held herb tea, buttered bread, fruit and sheep's-milk yogurt mixed with honey, something Andie particularly liked first thing in the morning. It was, in fact, breakfast in bed.

I want a big breakfast, said Fuchsia at last. I want a lot to eat, I'm going to think today.

On the strength of Vonnegut's reputation, 'Breakfast of Champions' spent a year on the best-seller lists, proving that he could indeed publish anything and make money.

When the young Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret were growing up, that was at it's height and the War cemented that with photographs of the Royal Family having breakfast together and so on, by pinning their reputation so firmly on that particular issue.

I was raised in the Pacific Islands, so I remember picking fruit every morning for breakfast or collecting the eggs from the chickens in the garden. It was a very simple life, but we had all of these fresh ingredients on our doorstep.

I'm a big fan of breakfast food. Literally, the simplest thing in the world - if you can scramble eggs without burning them, I'll eat them. It doesn't matter what time of the day it is.

Whoever invented breakfast really did it good.

Never work before breakfast; if you have to work before breakfast, eat your breakfast first.

And he's gone to Hawkforte." "Had his breakfast," Mulridge said, appearing over Bolkum's shoulder. "Said he couldn't bear London a moment longer. Knew he'd have to be back but needed a few days away." She looked at Kassandra rather pointedly. "Has too much on his mind, that lad does." "Hawkforte," Kassandra murmured, and all her longing sang in the single word.

An orange day, a happy day, a brand-new day in the secret language that only the three of us seemed to understand. "Mmmmm," Daddy said, taking a bite of his roll. "Orange wakes you up, but cinnamon makes you remember.

The eggs were extremely interesting, as was the bacon,and the hydrangeas outside the window were absolutely fascinating. hydrangeas.who would have imagined?

It's an indulgence to go out for bacon and eggs. It's not something you can do every day.

She told herself she didn't need breakfast, and ignoring her rumbling tummy, reached for the coffee jar. She flicked on the radio and spooned some instant into a mug, searching her fridge for milk. Someone further along the towpath was frying bacon. The bastard.

Are you sure you wouldn't like some toast, Phyllis? Toast is one of the triumphs of our civilisation. It must be made with very fresh bread, thickly cut; then toasted very quickly and buttered at once, so the butter is half-melted. Unsalted butter, of course; you sprinkle it with salt afterwards. Sea salt, preferably.

white and pink, that smelled heavenly, hibiscus so brilliant in color they almost burned Sophie's eyeballs. In the middle of the lanai, a table was set for breakfast, with pristine white dishes. The chairs

After a long chilly night's drive, straining our eyes in the darkness for unseen obstacles and pitfalls, we found that there was a lot to be said for a dram of whisky stirred into our porridge. It made a sustaining and stimulating mixture which I can warmly recommend as a breakfast dish to all engaged on similar enterprises.

Just ate at Hamburg Inn No. 2, home of Democracy and a really great Breakfast. You can't have one without the other. You could but neither would be as good. It should be noted that the first copy of our constitution had a sausage gravy stain on it.