Quotes About Breakfast

I am addicted to cereal. I am one of those people who just loves their cereal morning, noon and night. Kellogg's message is what I tell my kids every single day, which is: You've gotta start off your day right with a good, healthy breakfast to give yourself the potential for greatness.

In a psychiatric hospital, a lot of people believe that people on TV are talking to them directly through the screen. I'm with about 500 of these people, and I'm on TV every Friday night. As I was queuing up for breakfast one morning, one guy nearly jumped out of his skin. My first thought was to go 'Woooo!'

I used to skip breakfast, but eating gets my metabolism going, so I burn more calories all day.

Meat is a big deal in my life. I do love breakfast food, but I don't think that's extraordinary. I'm a normal American. We love eggs and meat and potatoes and gravy.

A breakfast recorded by the Duke of Wellington consisted of 'two pigeons and three beefsteaks, three parts of a bottle of Mozelle, a glass of champagne, two glasses of port and a glass of brandy' – and this was when he was feeling a little under the weather.

They were most peculiar. And they eat pizza pie." "For breakfast?" "No, for lunch and dinner. But it's not a pie at all, it's a kind of bread with tomato sauce and cheese on it." "Sounds dreadful.

I won't eat any cereal that doesn't turn the milk purple.

I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was mamaliga, and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call impletata. (Mem.,get recipe for this also.)

When he strolled into the kitchen with Samantha, he couldn't help grinning at the adoring look on Hans's face. Hans, a cup of coffee and a Diet Coke, please. Of course. But I have found a new cafe mocha you might like, Miss Sam. Much less coffee aftertaste. Would you care to try it? I trust you, Hans, she replied, smiling at the chef. Splendid. And might I suggest omelets for breakfast? Sounds good. Rick? He nodded, wondering just when he'd lost control of his household. That's fine.

There is history to read- centuries to comprehend before I sleep, millions of lives to assimilate before breakfast tomorrow.

I beamed benevolently at them over my third atheistic cup of coffee and ate my existentialist egg;

Five adults, a Leprechaun, a Dragon Prince, and two toddlers required a lot of French toast, but with Allie on one grill and Katie on the other, Graham beating the eggs, Charlie pouring juice, Auntie Gwen setting the table, Joe dealing with the coffee maker, and Jack watching the twins, breakfast got made.

Bought marmalade? Oh dear, I call that very feeble.

After breakfast I spent an hour cleaning my revolver and trying my skill at a target. Jane shook her head, probably thinking that bullets were vain against demonic powers. But Perdita was hugely delighted with the shining little instrument and wanted it for a plaything; women of all ages will play with death! ("Absolute Evil")

I did it." Who leaves a message like that? Who is so paranoid that they have to be so cryptic? If this wasn't day one of my Summer of Nothing, I might be in a hurry to figure this out. but first: breakfast.

History isn't what you had for breakfast. That's meaningless data, gone with the wind. History is that scar on your hand. It's the stories that leave a mark, the past that refuses to stay past.

I went back two weeks running, then three months after, just to be sure, and then a year after that. So punctual are they that they have trained the local birds to fly in for their breakfast." Holmes sighed as he took a pull of his Partagás. "Rich or poor, Douglas, we are all creatures of habit.

A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.

A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.

Like about ten times in each episode, which means that if you were watching it on Cartoon Network, he might say it like fifty times before breakfast.

Some breakfast food manufacturer hit upon the simple notion of emptying out the leavings of carthorse nose bags, adding a few other things like unconsumed portions of chicken layer's mash, and the sweepings of racing stables, packing the mixture in little bags and selling them in health food shops.

At this point, Mrs. Hardy brought the discussion to an end by setting before each boy a stack of steaming, golden-brown pancakes. Aunt Gertrude came in behind her with a block of yellow butter and a tall pitcher of maple syrup. "There are more cakes on the griddle," she said. "You need your strength.

I might be a wicked girl who'd think nothing of eating a baby for breakfast, but I'd never allow myself to get expelled. It's far too public.

He dreamed he was eating shredded wheat and woke up to find the mattress half gone.