Quotes About Dinner

The large courtyard was shaded by a linden tree, and we gathered and dried its leaves and flowers to make tilleul, an infusion commonly consumed after dinner in those parts of France.

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie

All through dinner Miss Beatrice Hyde-Clare imagined tossing food at Damien Matlock, Duke of Kesgrave. The projectiles varied depending on the course—fish patties with olive paste, stuffed tomatoes, veal cutlets, poached eggs, fillets of salmon, meringues with preserves—but the impulse remained steady.

That was rather interesting,' Mercer said as he filled his coffee mug and passed the thermal carafe to John. 'What do you say for dinner? "Blessed be the serial killers, or else the devil would have no one to torment.

Tomorrow is the benefit dinner for the Save the Chameleon Fund. The Decentville Zoo thinks their chameleons are either dead, missing, or plaid.

When we were eating dinner, sitting on her bed side by side, she said to me, "This is fun." "It weirdly is," I said. "Maybe these are our salad days." "Huh?" "You know. Happy." "What's happy about a salad?" She shrugged. "Ranch," she said.

Perhaps the single most important ritual a family can observe is having dinner together.

They did not see me as their dinner. They were pious men, honestly lost, and I would feed them, and if there was a handsome one amongst them, I might take him to my bed. It was not desire, not even its barest scrapings. It was a sort of rage, a knife I used upon myself. I did it to prove my skin was still my own.

After that, I was craftier with my observation, kept my head down and my eyes ready to leap away. But he was craftier still. At least once a dinner he would turn and catch me before I could feign indifference. Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moments in my day that I felt anything at all. The sudden swoop of my stomach, the coursing anger. I was like a fish eyeing the hook.

It seemed absurd even to think of it, foolish and improbable as a dream is by dinner.

At least once a dinner he would turn and catch me before I could feign indifference. Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that I felt anything at all.

Lunch in Paris, dinner in St. Petersburg had been the kaiser's terse summation of German grand strategy.

He'd had a full measure of good bourbon and a fine dinner and probably some excellent brandy. It had dulled his mind slightly, and he was aware of that dullness and was consequently more careful and more suspicious than he would have been sober. He refused a drink. He lowered himself into a comfortable chair and took his time lighting his pipe.

Francis, however, was tired and bored. He kept yawning and wanted to retire to his chamber before the end of the meal.

the Duke of Guise usurped his seat at dinner.

Every evening my wife makes us martinis and we talk about our days as I cook dinner and our children ignore us. It is a great pleasure in our lives: this rediscovering of each other as our children age. It is our indulgence.

I'm having yet another dinner, but this time with more of the working-level capital markets origination bankers. These guys are considerably more risk averse; they don't have the stomach for sales and trading and lack the smarts for M&A.

The guardian and arbiter of superlative eating, with every meal an unforgettable experience in pleasure, starting with the soup, which he said, 'must be the agent provocateur of a good dinner.'

Spending time with math people is a lot of fun. As a result of the play, I've had semi-drunken dinners with mathematicians all over the country. I recommend the experience.

After five years of marriage their idea of a really pleasant evening was to be at home, alone, help each other make a good dinner and then sit for a long time and eat and drink and talk.

I did not wait to hear the end of my father's story, for I had been with him myself after mass when we had met M. Legrandin; instead, I went downstairs to the kitchen to ask about the menu for our dinner, which was of fresh interest to me daily, like the news in a paper, and excited me as might the programme of a coming festivity.

At dinner members of the 8th enthusiastically told each other to pass the fucking salt, you fucking sack of shit, until Brahe told them to quit that goddamn shit, cocksuckers, because it got old pretty goddamn quick.

Will you stay to dinner? Adam asked. I will not be responsible for the murder of more chickens, said Samuel. Lee's got a pot roast. Well, in that case--

I'll rustle up some dinner.