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Quote by Thom Rutledge

“With all the risk and danger television sprays at us each day like tear gas, it occurs to me they should simply open each evening's show by saying, "Welcome to the Channel Two News; we're very surprised you made it through another day.”

Quote by Thom Rutledge

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Thom Rutledge

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“Mary had been chosen, “favored” by God. But what a strange blessing. It brought with it none of the ideals or goals that so consume our daily striving. Today many assume that those whom God favors will enjoy the things we equate with a good life: social standing, wealth and good health. Yet Mary, God’s favored one, was blessed with having a child out of wedlock who would later be executed as a criminal. Acceptability, prosperity, and comfort have never been the essence of God’s blessing”

“Before we do anything, here's the first lesson in dessert making: don't stint on any of the good stuff. Fill it up with butter, and cream, and sugar, and fruit. All the things we want loads of but really shouldn't have. It should feel decadent." That's her grandfather talking, of course: "Pudding is an indulgence; it should feel like it," he used to say. She could recall one day, in the kitchen of their house in London, when she was maybe nine or ten, helping her mother frost a birthday cake for one of her sisters (Meg, surely; Julia had given up cake, by that point). Elliott sat on a stool at the kitchen island, watching them, guiding Susan's technique: "Take off just enough of the frosting to give a smooth appearance, but don't scrape it all off. The whole point of cake is the frosting, isn't it? You don't want a bare cake." "Julia would," Susan commented with a wry smile. "Julia doesn't appreciate things like this" was Elliott's response. "Now, now," Susan's mother gently remonstrated with a warning look at her father-in-law. "Well, I worry about Julia," he said. "If you can't indulge in a little cake now and again, what sort of joy do you have in your life? Can you indulge in anything? And yes, cake is an indulgence. You don't need it, but you want it. It should feel celebratory and just a little delightfully naughty when you have it. It's the same with any dessert.”

“Tiny.” Juliet’s firm voice brought the dog to an abrupt halt much to Ryder’s immense relief. “Sit.” The damn dog sat and Ryder threw a dark look in Tiny’s direction until he realised the dog’s head was level with Juliet’s chest. No wonder he’d been so eager to obey. The dog wasn’t a flirt. He was a pervert. “Good puppy,” she crooned, cradling his head again, squishing his jowls, Tiny’s wet nose smooshed into her breasts. Fucks sake! The dog was getting more action than he was.”