Quotes About Appreciation

To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with.

My books are water; those of the great geniuses is wine. Everybody drinks water.

Beauty is not a hoax . . . Come on, I say to the creek, surprise me; and it does, with each new drop. Beauty is real. I would never deny it; the appalling thing is that I forget it (271).

The great hurrah about wild animals is that they exist at all, and the greater hurrah is the actual moment of seeing them. Because they have a nice dignity, and prefer to have nothing to do with me, even as the simple objects of my vision. They show me by their very wariness what a prize it is simply to open my eyes and behold.

But the augenblick isn't going to verweile. You were lucky to get it in the first place. The present is a freely given canvas. That it is constantly being ripped apart and washed downstream goes without saying; it is a canvas, nevertheless.

Beauty is real. I would never deny it; the appalling thing is that I forget it.

The answer must be, I think, that the beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.

But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days.

if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple.

I think that the dying pray at the last not please, but thank you, as a guest thanks his host at the door. Falling from airplanes the people are crying thank you, thank you, all the way down the air; and the cold carriages draw up for them on the rocks.

La gratitud es el pensamiento del corazón.

It's an irritating reality that many places and events defy description. Angkor Wat and Machu Picchu, for instance, seem to demand silence, like a love affair you can never talk about. For a while after,you fumble for words, trying vainly to assemble a private narrative, an explanation, a comfortable way to frame where you've been and whats happened. In the end, you're just happy you were there- with your eyes open- and lived to see it.

For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we've all had to become disappears, when we're confronted with something as simple as a plate of food.

I believe I should be able to treat my hamburger like food, not like infectious fucking medical waste.

The whole concept of 'the perfect meal' is ludicrous. I knew already that the best meal in the world, the perfect meal, is very rarely the most sophisticated or expensive one....Context and memory play powerful roles in all the truly great meals in one's life.

Toast your goddamn muffins.

you'd never never never again work for that manipulative, Machiavellian psychopath. And he'd get you back on the team, often with a gesture as simple and inexpensive as a baseball cap or a T-shirt. The timing was what did it, that he knew. He knew just when to apply that well-timed pat on the back, the strangled and difficult-for-him 'Thank you for your good work' appreciation of your labors.

It's a little more, but not much. And, you get conversation, which is something to be savored in Ireland. If you've got any kind of a heart, a soul, an appreciation for your fellow man, or any kind of appreciation for the written word, or simply a love of a perfectly poured beverage, then there's no way you could avoid loving this city.

When I die, I want to come back as a Mexican, a Poblano, a fucking grown-up.

Customers should understand that what they are paying for, in any restaurant situation, is not just what's on the plate—but everything that's not on the plate: all the bone, skin, fat, and waste product which the chef did pay for, by the pound.

Os vegetarianos são os inimigos de tudo o que há de bom e decente no espírito humano, uma afronta a tudo aquilo em que acreditamos, a pura apreciação da comida.

Os poucos heróis culinários que havia no Dreadnaught eram admirados mais pela sua resistência em combate – medida pelo número de pratos servidos numa noite, quantidade de dor e de calor suportados, número de empregadas comidas e cocktails consumidos sem efeitos aparentes. Esses eram os valores compreendidos e apreciados.

After a while, even the most beautiful scenery threatens to become moving wallpaper—background—but other times, it all seems to come together: the work, the play, all the places I've been, where I am now, a happy, stupid, wonderful confluence of events.

On my day off, I rarely want to eat restaurant food unless I'm looking for new ideas or recipes to steal. What I want to eat is home cooking, somebody's anybody's - mother's or grandmother's food. A simple pasta pomodoro made with love, a clumsily thrown-together tuna casserole, roast beef with Yorkshire