Quotes About Pie

I am too nervous to eat pie.

She serves me a piece of it a few minutes out of the oven. A little steam rises from the slits on top. Sugar and spice - cinnamon - burned into the crust. But she's wearing these dark glasses in the kitchen at ten o'clock in the morning - everything nice - as she watches me break off a piece, bring it to my mouth, and blow on it. My daughter's kitchen, in winter. I fork the pie in and tell myself to stay out of it. She says she loves him. No way could it be worse.

It came in a vision - a man appeared on a flaming pie and said unto them, 'From this day forward you are Beatles with an A.' Thank you Mister Man, they said, thanking him.

You're not a priority if you're an option, you are a percentage. A percentage of that other person's time and effort. The size of the pie never changes, the slices do.

We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.

God bless my soul! No apple pie.

I once sat on the rim of a mesa above the Rio Grande for three days and nights, trying to have a vision. I got hungry and saw God in the form of a beef pie.

Last time you bring me pie, I cut into it, with my tiny pie cutter, and millions of birds flew out hitting me in the eyes and the temples... it was a trick pie!

Cut my pie into four pieces, I don't think I could eat eight.

Pie can't compete with cake. Put candles in a cake, it's a birthday cake. Put candles in a pie, someone's drunk in the kitchen.

Without the door let sorrow lie, And if for cold it hap to die, We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie, And evermore be merry.

A girl came up to me in a bar and said she wanted to be my apple pie. I wish I'd said something cool, but I was stunned.

I love roasted pecans. I'll make a sort of granola with the roasted pecans, turn that into a super nutty pie crust, and top that with apple-syrup pudding and top that with cooked custard and maple syrup.

No. We talked about this. I'm going home to eat a pie.

Their storytelling grew richer. One evening, Ali was consumed by a memory. She saw three ripe lemons on the wooden cutting board in her mother's kitchen, right down to the sunlight spangling off their pores. She heard her mother singing while they rolled pie dough in a storm of flour.

When you see me up on a breaking-news story, it is not good news. I'm not about to give you the secret to my mom's sweet potato pie.

I love pie. Definitely apple pie, but sweet potato pie - really any pie.

We did a dish called seafood thermidor, which was, essentially, a glorified fish pie. It's great because you don't use much fish in it. It's all sauce and potatoes, but people loved it! It kept us afloat.

Conversation was irrelevant. Only pie mattered.

There was a blackberry pie which the counterman claimed his wife made, and I ate two pieces. He had married well.

I think she suspects something, though. We've had cherry pie for dessert five nights in a row." His voice drawled, and my smile deepened.

Clowns have no respect for pie.

I watched in total disbelief as my aunt began to expertly roll a joint. "What are you doing?" "Baking a pie, Jax. What does it look like I'm doing?

I work on most weekends, so my husband is the executive chef. He is an amazing cook. I love the way he does salmon, and his apple pie for dessert is delicious.