Quotes About Cookies

I'm not heavily into baking.

I love to make Christmas cookies, chocolate chips, peanut butter cookies, pecan pies, coconut macaroons, fruitcakes.

Oliver: You turned me down. So why, I wonder, did you decide Amelie would be a better choice? Claire: She smells better. And she made me cookies.

I like cookies, any cookie you put in front of me - animal cookies, sugar cookies, anything crunchy.

Has anyone ever in recorded history kept a box of Pepperidge Farm cookies for longer than three days?

I'm not big on dark chocolate, but I do have a sweet tooth, so it gets me in trouble. I love warm chocolate chip cookies with ice cream. Then there's this chocolate pie my mom makes for me every year for my birthday. She's been making it since I was younger, and there's nothing like it. It's really so, so good!

Southern Cheap is, I'm gonna eat stale cookies while I serve you these fresh, warm buttered biscuits. Yankee Cheap is, I've got ten million dollars in the bank but I'm gonna cut off the thermostat during a blizzard and here's my great-great-grandpa's mothballed coat from the War of 1812 if you don't have the character and fortitude to generate your own body heat.

What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance. They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies.

I love Christmas. Frosty the Snowman, peace on Earth and mangers, Salvation Army bell ringers and reindeer, the movie 'Meet Me in St. Louis,' office parties and cookies.

My dad actually makes the best cookies. My mum is great baker, too, but doesn't share them - it's tantalising! Luckily for me though, my dad shares his!

Happiness is baking cookies. Happiness is giving them away. And serving them, and eating them, talking about them, reading and writing about them, thinking about them, and sharing them with you.

Christmas cookies can't help but be retro - they are memory first, sugar-flour-egg-redhot-gumdrop-sparkle reality second.

I use nothing but the best ingredients. My cookies are always baked fresh. I price cookies so that you cannot make them at home for any less. And I still give cookies away.

Merry Christmas!' someone shouted. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 'Merry Christmas!' 'Merry Christmas!' 'C-cookies for ever'body!' Sammy hollered. And looking both ways, they all fled across to the light, and the warmth, and the books, and the mystery.

The perfect date for me would be staying at home, making a big picnic in bed, eating Wotsits and cookies while watching cable TV.

The pleasure lies not in the cookies, but in the pattern the crumbs make when the cookies crumble.

I like to have cookies in the morning before I go swimming.

I can always tell when my mother, an artist who grew up in Switzerland, starts to feel nostalgic for home. It is the smell of the crispy apple tarts, the ginger cookies, and the creamy muesli full of nuts and fresh berries. The scent alone delivers a rush of childhood memories for me.

She lowered her arms but didn't move out of his embrace. He should let go, back away, but her eyes were very wide and very blue. He slipped into them, bending his head toward hers, catching the scent of vanilla that whispered of fresh-baked cookies, a loving family, the home he'd never known.

There was probably some kind of anti-compulsive psychiatric medication liberally added to this trucked-in gross of cookies so that people like me, who could not stop eating the cookies once they were offered, would not continuously sneak down to the lobby in the soul-slaughtering hours between two and four a.m. to steal six at a time, finishing most of them before getting back to the room.

He faced us. "You hear that, guys? A batch of cookies is depending on me. If you get me killed on the way to camp, I am going be ticked off.

Gaea snarled in frustration. Don't be cowards! It's very simple. You take this sharp pointy blade and you cut your dad into small pieces so he can't bother us again. Whichever of you does this will be the ruler of the universe! Also, I will make you those cookies you used to like, with the sprinkles.

Weasel cookies.

Oh, no," she said. "Apollo and Meg can have one, but I'm keeping the rest hostage until you're back safely. And hurry, dear. It would be a shame if Paul ate them all when he gets home." Percy's expression turned grim. He faced us. "You hear that, guys? A batch of cookies is depending on me. If you get me killed on the way to camp, I am going be ticked off.