Quotes About Seared

Waking from any fever dream, one retains, above all, impressions seared into memory.

When you start early, and you're writing for free, there's a lot of producers that will take advantage of you... It is seared in my brain forever.

Then there was an exchange that's been seared into my memory. Joe Biden said he had argued for a different approach and was ready to move forward, but the military "should consider the president's decision as an order." "I am giving an order," Obama

Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron.

I mean, I think everybody should probably approach a film that it's another unwanted thing. That's going to be seared onto my brain for the rest of my life. Thank you for that.

The chained girl's eyes swept the room like searchlights. Rien lowered her gaze when the stare seared over her.

Those highlight moments forever seared in your memory: that too is group flow in action.

the past was so painful at any point. It seared and burned.

A chunk of seared albacore tuna, salted and peppered, then seared rare in a little oil in a hot skillet for just a minute or so per side, is the perfect addition to a savory plate of fried rice. Just slice the tuna across the grain and fan those mild, meaty slices over the top of the rice.

Albacore tuna has a mild flavor that's delicious served raw or seared briefly on the outside so that it's still rare on the inside.

My favorite meal to make is seared ahi, and my wife does the most amazing pear salad.

My loves have always been seared with this singing, this singing written by death, the way some lands have always been crippled by war.

She crouched in the bushes and watched it, a huge horse emerging seared and whole from the sun's eye and passing like a wrecked caravel gaunt-ribbed and black and mad with tattered saddle and dangling stirrups and hoofs clopping softly in the dust and passing enormous and emaciate and inflamed and the sound of it dying down the road to a distant echo of applause in a hall forever empty.

Perhaps it was the flabby stink of seared flesh that was making me feel peculiar; that, and the smoke from the candles on the tables and the borborygmic blarings of the three-piece band.

Scorching my seared heart with a pain, not hell shall make me fear again.