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Quote by Sebastian L. Marec

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La Frequenza Marec : Il manoscritto perduto che unisce storia, scienza e silenzio

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Sebastian L. Marec

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“In no time, I'd beaten cream cheese and butter and confectioners' sugar and more vanilla with my electric hand mixer till the icing was real light and fluffy, and when the cakes were cooled a little, I handed Billy Po a serrated knife, showed him how to level the tops, and we both tasted the rich leftover pieces of cake. "Boy, that's delicious," he exclaimed as he nibbled real slow and his eyes got big. "Know what I love?" I said. "All those different textures. The smooth bananas, the stringy pineapple, and crunchy pecans. Nothing like it.”

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Book:Hungry for Happiness
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“She had baked a simple round vanilla sponge cake in two layers with crimson icing between the layers. Then she had coated the cake with a vibrant turquoise blue icing. Across the top she had created a loose, open, basket-weave design in bright yellow bordered with piped yellow stars alternating with crimson stars, and she was now finishing off by piping scrolls of crimson around the base of the sides. It would be a handsome cake: beautiful, but at the same time masculine.”

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Book:Baking Cakes in Kigali
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“Each layer was a clean, crisp white. Marzipan over rich Vienna cream icing, edged with sugar lace, a delicate spidery web of lines, the perfect allusion of the bobbin lace that Princess Rose liked to weave. Or at least claimed she wove as a useful anecdote. His notes stated that she gave biannual speeches as patron of the City of London Arts and Crafts Guild. Flowers wound up the side of the cake, the blooming vine of a fairy tale. He studied the effect with distaste. A tap of the leftmost flower, and the petals changed color from an iridescent pink to a deep, brooding blood purple, almost black in tone. He swept his hand in front of the cake. One after another, the edges of the peony poppies bled, thee dark color leaching over the celestial pink. Still fairy tale, but with the inevitable malevolent element. Better. Also better suited to a dungeon or coffin than a reception table, but from the impression he got of the bride, the Tim Burton vibe was strongly in her wheelhouse.”

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Book:Battle Royal
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“Он всегда был счастлив при встрече с Цезарем, оба они радовались. Но радовались, кажется, неодинаково. Чек - откровенно и ясно, весь он был как на ладони. А Втька не мог отвязаться от скрытого смущения и тайной виноватости. Дело в том, что Чек был уверен: они дружат на равных. И Витьке приходилось притворяться, что это так. А в душе-то он относился к Цезарёнку как к младшему, которого надо защищать и оберегать. Впрочем, это одна сторона. А другая... Бывает, что друг меньше по годам, слабее по силам, а ты понимаешь, насколько он крепче духом и яснее душой. И ты благодарен ему за то, что он выбрал в самые лучшие друзья именно тебя.”

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Book:Застава на Якорном поле. Крик петуха.
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“I was a really good waitress. Waitressing takes a certain gusto. You need a good memory and an ability to connect with people fast. You have to learn how to treat the kitchen as well as you treat the customers. You have to figure out which crazy people to listen to and which crazy people to ignore. I loved waiting tables because when you cashed out at the end of the night your job was truly over. You wiped down your section and paid out your busboy and you knew your work was done.”

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Author:Amy Poehler
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