Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Anna-Marie McLemore

Quote by Anna-Marie McLemore

“My father doesn't ask why I'm in the back after the first morning rush, making green and purple sugar paste for pan dulce. He's working on a batch of unicorn conchas, his latest stroke of genius, pan dulce covered with shells of pink, purple, and blue sugar that sell out every weekend.”

Quote by Anna-Marie McLemore

Work

Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Anna-Marie McLemore

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Anna-Marie McLemore. more

You May Also Like

“Que el anarquismo es una maravillosa idea de libertad, no tener a nadie encima de uno. Ningún poder superior, ninguna cadena. No hay idea más maravillosa. No hay idea menos practicable. Pero hay que mantener la utopía de las ideas. Si no, nos convertimos en bestias. También la vida práctica es un hoyo negro que los lleva a la muerte. La revolución, la anarquía, la libertad son los premios del pensamiento. No tienen más que un trono, nuestra cabeza.”

“The Beetle’s body, whether it be a ’49 split or a ’73 Jeans Bug, or an ‘03 Mexican, was originally conceived in the mid 1930’s. This is evident in it’s body styling which aside from it’s rear engine layout and absence of front radiator (or radiator!) grille, is very similar to other cars of the same period. Believe it or not, in those days streamlining was a hot new concept, kind of like how wireless networking is today with computing. The only problem was, in the beginning they didn’t seem to realize that streamlining ought to be applied sideways as well as longitudinally!”

“Triqui and other Latin American native languages are commonly referred to as dialects. (...) Instead of understanding them as languages that were spoken in the area long before the Spanish conquest, calling them dialects implies that they developed as derivatives of the real language, Spanish. This misinterpretation supports the prevalent attitude that indigenous Mexicans are less important, even less Mexican , than mestizo Mexicans”

“Noemi wondered if High Place had robbed her of her illusions, or if they were meant to be shattered all along. Marriage could hardly be like the passionate romances one read about in books. It seemed to her, in fact, a rotten deal. Men would be solicitous and well behaved when they courted a woman, asking her out to parties and sending her flowers, but once they married. the flowers wilted. You didn't have married men posting love letters to their wives. That's why Noemí tended to cycle through admirers. She worried a man would be briefly impressed with her luster, only to lose interest later on. There was also the excitement of the chase, the delight that flew through her veins when she knew a suitor was bewitched with her. Besides, boys her age were dull, always talking about the parties they had been to the previous week or the one they were planning to go to the week after. Easy, shallow men. Yet the thought of anyone more substantial made her nervous, for she was trapped between competing de sires, a desire for a more meaningful connection and the desire to never change. She wished for eternal youth and endless merriment.”