Quotes About Cake

I'm just a piece of the pie, a slice of the pound cake.

I think to eat cake is very good for us, but it's the size of the slice and how often you have it.

I stick to a clean diet with lots of organic food and raw juices. Every now and then, I have a slice of cake or pizza, though; you have to have cheat days to keep you going.

Spreadable butter is wonderful for cake-making: it's much easier to cream than the block type and slightly lighter because it's blended with oil.

My go-to ingredients that are also pantry-friendly start with freeze-dried berries. They're so potent with both flavor and color and can grind up into a fine powder and give you a smooth frosting or cake.

Being from Baltimore, I'm a crab cake snob, and I'm very particular on where I eat my crab cakes.

My grandsons really love my apple cake, which is from my grandmother's recipe.

We do have a love fest [at home]. It's like, 'I'm making you a cupcake.' Then it's like, 'Well, I made you a cake.' And it's like, 'Well I made you a cake with a cupcake on top and candles.'

Oh, Kendra, before I forget, Gavin asked me to give you this letter. He held out a gray, speckled envelope. Happy birthday to you! Seth exclaimed, his voice full of implications. Kendra tried not to blush as she tucked the envelope away. Dear Kendra, Seth improvised, you're the only girl who really gets me, you know, and I think you're very mature for your age-- What about some cake? Grandma interrupted, holding the first piece out to Kendra and glaring at Seth.

Literature is a cake with many toys baked inside--and even if you find them all, if you don't enjoy the path that leads you to them, it will be a hollow accomplishment.

Winder's mind felt even fuzzier than it had done over the past few years, but he was certain about cake. He'd been eating cake, and now there wasn't any. Through the mists he saw it, apparently close but, when he tried to reach it, a long way away. A certain realization dawned on him. Oh, he said. YES, said Death. Not even time to finish my cake? NO. THERE IS NO MORE TIME, EVEN FOR CAKE. FOR YOU, THE CAKE IS OVER. YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE.

A certain realization dawned on him. 'Oh,' he said. YES, said Death. 'Not even time to finish my cake?' NO. THERE IS NO MORE TIME, EVEN FOR CAKE. FOR YOU, THE CAKE IS OVER. YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE.

I would compare kicking to being a closer in baseball. This whole game gets played, or the cake is made in front of you, so to speak, and you have to turn around and put the icing on the cake.

Cancer is a cruel killer. It creeps up on us when we aren't expecting it. But cake is not cancer. A doughnut does not creep up on you.

Everyone who knows me knows that I always eat cake. My nutritionist hates it, but I just tell her I like to eat it, and she's not going to stop me!

Those who are meek shall inherit this earth; the ugly ones shall have their cake and munch on it, too.

You got me a birthday cake. It was pink. I smashed it into the ceiling.

I'm confused, Ms. Lane. Is this cake for me, or for you?" Yeah, well, there was that. I'd been planning on eating a lot of it myself. I'd spared no expense. I could have downloaded forty-seven songs from iTunes instead. "They were out of black icing," I said dryly.

Don't hurt yourself, honey. It's just a wish," I teased. But she wished like she did everything else: one hundred fifty percent. She stood there so long I was beginning to suspect she had a little bit of an attorney in her and was adding codicils and caveats. Then her eyes popped open and she flashed me that cocky grin. She nearly blew the icing off the cake.

Her freckles were delectable. Most fellows didn't care for freckles as a rule, thinking they were tough-looking. But Betty's were appealing. Like cake batter you could wipe off with your thumb, buttery and sweet.

Presently we began to have our slices of the national cake," F. Scott Fitzgerald remembered, "and our idealism only flared up when the newspapers made melodrama out of such stories as Harding and the Ohio Gang or Sacco and Vanzetti.

Cakes are special. Every birthday, every celebration ends with something sweet, a cake, and people remember. It's all about the memories.

Other pirates leaped over the railing. One, two... seven... thirteen. A baker's dozen. Wait, fifteen. Eighteen... Twenty-one. The odds weren't in our favor. "Maybe they just came over to borrow a cup of sugar," I said. Andrea barked a short laugh. Curran put his hand on my shoulder. "That's a lot of sugar. Must be a big cake.

A vida é por vezes triste e muitas vezes aborrecida mas de vez em quando há groselhas no bolo.