Quotessence
Home / Quotes / T Quotes

T Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with T. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All T Quotes

“THE NEXT DAY WAS RAIN-SOAKED and smelled of thick sweet caramel, warm coconut and ginger. A nearby bakery fanned its daily offerings. A lapis lazuli sky was blanketed by gunmetal gray clouds as it wept crocodile tears across the parched Los Angeles landscape. When Ivy was a child and she overheard adults talking about their break-ups, in her young feeble-formed mind, she imagined it in the most literal of essences. She once heard her mother speaking of her break up with an emotionally unavailable man. She said they broke up on 69th Street. Ivy visualized her mother and that man breaking into countless fragments, like a spilled box of jigsaw pieces. And she imagined them shattered in broken shards, being blown down the pavement of 69th Street. For some reason, on the drive home from Marcel’s apartment that next morning, all Ivy could think about was her mother and that faceless man in broken pieces, perhaps some aspects of them still stuck in cracks and crevices of the sidewalk, mistaken as grit. She couldn’t get the image of Marcel having his seizure out of her mind. It left a burning sensation in the center of her chest. An incessant flame torched her lungs, chest, and even the back door of her tongue. Witnessing someone you cared about experiencing a seizure was one of those things that scribed itself indelibly on the canvas of your mind. It was gut-wrenching. Graphic and out-of-body, it was the stuff that post traumatic stress syndrome was made of.”

“The next day we pursued our journey upon mules; and as we ascended still higher, the valley assumed a more magnificent and astonishing character. Ruined castles hanging on the precipices of piny mountains; the impetuous Arve, the cottages every here and there peeping forth from among the trees, formed a scene of singular beauty. But it was augmented and rendered sublime by the mighty Alps, whose white and shining pyramids and domes towered above all, as belonging to another earth, the habitations of another race of beings.”

“The next day, when I came home from the library, there was a small, used red record player in my room. I found my mother in the kitchen and spotted a bandage taped to her arm. “Ma,” I asked. “Where did you get the money for the record player?” “I had it saved,” she lied. My father lived well, had a large house and an expensive imported car, wanted for little, and gave nothing. My mother lived on welfare in a slum and sold her blood to the Red Cross to get me a record player. “Education is everything, Johnny,” she said, as she headed for the refrigerator to get me food. “You get smart like regular people and you don’t have to live like this no more.” She and I were not hugging types, but I put my hand on her shoulder as she washed the dishes with her back to me and she said, in best Brooklynese, “So go and enjoy, already.” My father always said I was my mother’s son and I was proud of that. On her good days, she was a good and noble thing to be a part of. That evening, I plugged in the red record player and placed it by the window. My mother and I took the kitchen chairs out to the porch and listened to Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony from beginning to end, as we watched the oil-stained waters of the Mad River roll by. It was a good night, another good night, one of many that have blessed my life.”

“The next day, when preparations were in full swing for the crossing of the Dniester river, the scouts of the 91st Infantry Regiment passed by a cross on the roadside on which someone had written Unknown Soldier. While some were making the cross sign over their chests, others were saying a God forgive him! or God rest his soul! But for most of them the old priest's words came back to them: These are our holy crosses, which spring from the bodies of our heroes and are watered with their blood and the tears of those who knew and loved them.”

“The next decade will perhaps raise us a step above despair to a cleaner, clearer wisdom and biology cannot fail to help in this. As we become increasingly aware of the ethical problems raised by science and technology, the frontiers between the biological and social sciences are clearly of critical importance-in population density and problems of hunger, psychological stress, pollution of the air and water and exhaustion of irreplaceable resources.”

“The next dish arrived, a small bowl of morels cooked in brown butter served with maitake mushroom broth, complex and unctuous. The morels were harvested the year before, pickled and preserved, and served with a hand-carved appetizer fork. The concentration of flavor brought images of the woods to her mind, from the mossy forest floor to the tree canopy high above. This dish was followed by marigold flowers fried in an incredibly light tempura and then salted, served with an egg yolk dipping sauce. Then walnut "tofu," surrounded by grilled rose petals, topped with a sunflower seed mole, herbs, and tiny flowers, and a caramelized milk tart stuffed with cheese and thinly sliced black truffles, the flavor nutty and savory. "That's better than sex," Cassie overheard Eamon say from across the table, eyes closed and head back in rapture.”

“The next dish was a plate of three gently cooked quail eggs served in a buttery crust filled with an equally buttery leek cream, and topped with a generous spoonful of jet-black caviar. Cassie broke open the runny yolk of an egg with the tip of her fork, videoing as it oozed into the caviar and covered the tart. "Now that's what I call food porn," she said, before taking a bite.”

“The next era of civilization will not be written in binary-but in balance. AI will make decisions faster; humans must make them wiser.”

“The next forty minutes are a festival of soul eating. I know many immigrant families incorporate their traditional dishes into the Thanksgiving feast, but not my folks. Our menu is Norman Rockwell on crack. Turkey with gravy. Homemade cranberry relish and the jellied stuff from the can. Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, green bean casserole. Cornbread stuffing and buttery yeast rolls. The only nods to our heritage are mustard-seed pickled carrots and dill-cucumber salad, to have something cool and palate-cleansing on the plate. A crazy layered Jello-O dish, with six different colors in thin stripes, looking like vintage Bakelite. Jeff and the girls show up just in time for desserts... apple pie, pumpkin pie, pecan bars, cheesecake brownies, and Maria's flan.”

“The next General Election isn't about electing yet another Labour or Tory MP to join the hundreds of other Labour or Tory MPs in London. It will be about electing a candidate who will put solving people's problems before scoring political points. Someone who will fight for the future of our communities here in Clwyd West.”

“The next generation is like the last runner in a very long relay race. The race to end extreme poverty has been a marathon, with the starter gun fired in 1800. This next generation has the unique opportunity to complete the job: to pick up the baton, cross the line, and raise its hands in triumph. The project must be completed. And we should have a big party when we are done.”