Quotes About Fruit

O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach.

Which is this? This is persimmons, Father. Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk, the strength, the tense precision in the wrist. I painted them hundreds of times eye's closed. These I painted blind. Some things never leave a person: scent of hair of one you love, the texture of persimmons, in your palm, the ripe weight.

The good boy hugs a bag of peaches his father has entrusted to him. Now he follows his father, who carries a bagful in each arm. See the look on the boy's face as his father moves faster and farther ahead, while his own steps flag, and his arms grow weak, as he labors under the weight of peaches.

Many critics are like woodpeckers, who, instead of enjoying the fruit and shadow of a tree, hop incessantly around the trunk, pecking holes in the bark to discover some little worm or other.

I'm having a late lunch and thinking it over." "What is that you're having?" "Fruit salad." "That's funny," Kylie said, "cuz it looks like a sangria." "Huh. Weird." Sadie sipped her "fruit salad.

Jalapeño sky raisins?" "Bees and wasps.

Dreams are at once fruit and outcry against an atrophy of the senses..

Drunkeness, she told us in a rare moment of confidence, is a sin against the fruit, the tree, the wine itself. Wine, distilled and nurtured from bud into fruit; it deserves reverance. Joy. Gentleness. (Page 194.)

There was already a shop selling fabrics there; another sold mangoes and lentils and yams. There was a café- no alcohol, but mint tea, and glass-water pipes of kif - that fragrant blend of tobacco and marijuana so common in Morocco. There was a market every week, selling strange and exotic fruit and vegetables brought in from the docks at Marseille, and a little bakery, selling flatbread and pancakes and sweet milk rolls and honey pastries and almond briouats .

I go back into the kitchen. There are mendiants cooling on a sheet of greaseproof paper; little discs of chocolate, scattered with pieces of crystallized fruit; chopped almonds and pistachios; dried rose petals and gold leaf. Mendiants were always my favorites; so simple to make that even a child- even Anouk at five years old- was able to make them unsupervised. A sour cherry for the nose; a lemon slice for the mouth. Even her mendiants were smiling.

The apple . . . came before Adam and Eve in the story of creation. It had to have been there at least three years because that's how long it takes for a new tree to bear fruit.

What a man sows that shall he and his relations reap.

Since they hated knowledge and did not choose to fear the Lord, since they would not accept my advice and spurned my rebuke, they will eat the fruit of their ways and be filled with the fruit of their schemes.

My late wife Olympia was Goan and I've been to India many times. I love the food there. We used to do our shopping in Southall, where you can find cheap but wonderful fruit like mangoes, vegetables and spices. I didn't do much of the cooking, as Olympia did a lot - I was the under-chef and did some of the chopping.

Baharda çilek yemek, evet, olur böyle ÅŸeyler yaÅŸamda, ama y?l?n çok k?sa bir bölümünde yaln?zca ve ÅŸu s?ra çok uzakta.

In the Garden of Eden Eve showed more courage than Adam.. when the serpent offered the forbidden fruit. She knew that there was something better than paradise.

Sorrow is a fruit. God does not allow it to grow on a branch that is too weak to bear it.

Thus is the fruit of the Earth taken, its flesh torn. Thus is it given over standing, toward rot. It is the principle of corruption, the death of what is, the birth of what is to be. You are wine.

Aye, we all know your fondness for apples, brother.

A mother's hardest to forgive. Life is the fruit she longs to hand you Ripe on a plate. And while you live, Relentlessly she understands you.

I am an apple, and one who loves you tossed me before you. O yield to him, dear Xanthippe! Both you and I decay.

I'm an apple, tossed here by someone who loves you, Xanthippe. But you should nod assent: after all, you and I will both waste away.

Perhaps memory is like a bucket; if you want to cram into it more fruit than it will hold, the fruit is crushed.