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Feeding Quotes

Browse 540 quotes about Feeding.

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Feeding Quotes

“As I sat there on that winter afternoon, feeding the birds, laughing and rejoicing at the way they come again and again, flying one after another and fighting for every piece, I realised how funny and simple life truly is in these simple moments. We always have someone to provide for us, but we try to make up excuses for the lack of it, instead of trusting in divine timing. What if in reality, our Creator is a simple man on a chair, laughing kindly at our carelessness and worries, joyfully handing us another piece of bread to wake us up from our wondering..”

KindJoyWorryDivineWinterCreatorFeedingBirdsWake
Author:Virgil Kalyana Mittata Iordache
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“Dad never praised my cooking or complained about it, either. So I always thought cooking was like putting on your socks, say, or opening a window - nothing special. But now that I had a girlfriend I realized that if you fed a woman good food she'd be yours forever, and was kind of upset with Dad for not telling me something so important.”

FoodCookingSecretsFeedingFeedImportant Things In Life
Book:Scattered All Over the Earth
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“Next time you sit down to eat, imagine you are an ideal parent feeding a beloved child. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could offer yourself food in a warm, structured, no-fuss kind of way? You wouldn’t punish yourself with crash diets nor would you allow yourself too much junk. Your priority when choosing food would be to see yourself well nourished and you’d choose meals to keep your mood on an even keel. You’d want yourself to enjoy eating. The pantry would be stocked with good food and you would trust yourself to choose wisely from its contents.”

ChildrenFoodFeedingFood Writing
Book:First Bite: How We Learn to Eat
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“What is so damaging about our gendered approach to food is that it encourages both boys and girls to feed themselves in ways that go against what their bodies require. We have got things the wrong way round. It is girls more than boys who need the most haemoglobin-boosting foods. And boys more than girls are lacking in salad and vegetables. Girl food and boy food are dangerous nonsense that prevents us from seeing the real problems of feeding boys and girls.”

FoodEatingGenderFeedingFood Writing
Book:First Bite: How We Learn to Eat
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“I have been told by the third grade teacher that my daughter Poppet is reading at middle school level. Yet if I leave Poppet a note in block letters telling her to feed the dogs I will come home to find the dogs have been ... given a swim in the above-ground pool, dressed in tutus, provided with hair weaves. What I will not find is that the dogs have been fed. 'I thought you wanted me to free the dogs,' says Poppet whose school district is not spending quite what D.C.'s is, thanks to voter rejection of the last school bond referendum.”

ReadingFreedomHumourFeedingDogsSchoolsMiddle SchoolDaughtersThird Grade
Author:P.J. O'Rourke
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“When I hit thirty, he brought me a cake, three layers of icing, home-made, a candle for each stone in weight. The icing was white but the letters were pink, they said, EAT ME. And I ate, did what I was told. Didn’t even taste it. Then he asked me to get up and walk round the bed so he could watch my broad belly wobble, hips judder like a juggernaut. The bigger the better, he’d say, I like big girls, soft girls, girls I can burrow inside with multiple chins, masses of cellulite. I was his Jacuzzi. But he was my cook, my only pleasure the rush of fast food, his pleasure, to watch me swell like forbidden fruit. His breadfruit. His desert island after shipwreck. Or a beached whale on a king-sized bed craving a wave. I was a tidal wave of flesh. too fat to leave, too fat to buy a pint of full-fat milk, too fat to use fat as an emotional shield, too fat to be called chubby, cuddly, big-built. The day I hit thirty-nine, I allowed him to stroke my globe of a cheek. His flesh, my flesh flowed. He said, Open wide, poured olive oil down my throat. Soon you’ll be forty… he whispered, and how could I not roll over on top. I rolled and he drowned in my flesh. I drowned his dying sentence out. I left him there for six hours that felt like a week. His mouth slightly open, his eyes bulging with greed. There was nothing else left in the house to eat.”

GenderDramaticColonialismFeedingClaustrophobia
Book:Poems of the Decade: An Anthology of the Forward Books of Poetry
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“With no other choice, Tory approached Ash slowly. Warily. Could he even tell if it was her? By the way he was acting, she didn't think so. "Baby?" He looked up at her with blood red eyes that held no semblance of understanding. They were feral and cold. The eyes of a predator. With a speed she couldn't even see with her naked eye, Ash was off the floor. He grabbed her by the throat, threw her down on the ground and sank his fangs deep into her neck. Ash's head buzzed and his shoulder ached as he finally slaked some of the hunger that had been tearing at him for days. The blood was so good. So warm and satisfying. He licked and sucked, drinking it in until he was normal again. But as he returned to himself, his anger mounted that she'd let him go so long without nourishment. Even though he hadn't been able to speak, he remembered her watching him through the door. You'll eat when you please me..." She knew what those words did to him and he was tired of her abuse. "Artemis, you..." His words trailed off as he pulled away from her throat and realized it wasn't Artemis he was holding. It was Tory and she was extremely pale from the blood loss. Horror filled him. Her neck was savagely torn from his teeth, her brown eyes half-hooded as she struggled to breathe. No! His soul screamed out. How could he have hurt her? How could he be so far gone that he hadn't even realized it was Tory he tasted? Because Artemis had kept him without food for too long. And then she'd thrown a human in with him, knowing a human couldn't survive his feeding. "Oh gods," he breathed, choking. "Stay with me, baby. I'll get you help." She coughed as she reached up to touch his lips that were covered in her blood from his feeding. He saw the fear in her eyes and the pain that he'd caused her. The guilt was more than he could bear. "Soteria?" he whispered her name like a prayer. "Akribos?" She expelled one last breath before her eyes glazed over and her hand fell limply to the ground where it landed palm up. Unimaginable grief tore through him as he realized he'd just killed her. Throwing his head back, Ash bellowed from the weight of guilt and pain that assaulted him. He would never have hurt her. Never!”

DeathFeedingGreifBloodlust
Book:Acheron
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“Han breaks a tangerine into sections and feeds them to her one by one. Then he cuts a lemon in half, sprinkles a spoonful of sugar over the cut top, and bites into it. Sirine looks around at the wandering palms and the dusty street. Just that morning the radio weatherman had said it would be an Indian summer scorcher. She slices open an avocado and sprinkles it with coarse salt before handing it to Han.”

FeedingFruits And VegetablesSirine And HanSalt And Sugar
Book:Crescent
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“According to her chore list, she was supposed to feed the chickens. Milly hd already retrieved the eggs. She'd mentioned something about egg salad, if she could round up a jar of pickles in the cellar. "A change might do us good," she'd said, which made Twiss laugh. "Nothing like old pickles to oust us from routine." Twiss fed the chickens, each of whom she called Raoul because she couldn't tell them apart, and swept up the droppings on the floor.”

FeedingTwissBird Sisters
Book:The Bird Sisters
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“Bennett reached for the fork first and scooped up a perfect bite of everything, which was a relief. A relief that turned into panic when he held the fork out toward me. Not for me to take---for me to take a bite. "For you, sweetheart." His eyes sparkled behind his glasses. I squared my shoulders. I could not believe this was happening. "Thank you, darling," I forced out, and let him feed me. My lips closed over the fork, Bennett watching the entire time. My face warmed again at the intentness of his stare on my mouth, but surely he was just watching to see when he could remove the utensil. The babka beignet was spectacular, light and fluffy and buttery, the chocolate filling dark and sweet against the tart brightness of the cherry. I parted my lips so that he could pull the fork back. His face was red again. Fortunately, he didn't make me feed him, just took a bite himself. Sadie asked, "So? What do you think?" "Delicious," he said, but he wasn't even looking at the dessert. He was looking at me. I couldn't even bring myself to answer. I could still feel the insistent push of his fork against my lips.”

FeedingDessertIntimate Act
Book:Best Served Hot
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“Moving to the enclosure hosting a white wooden home, completed with a pink cushioned bed, I stood over the little gate but saw nothing. Knowing Phoebe and the deadly prickler she was, she’d stay unseen if she wanted. Her anxiety made sure of it. Phoebe: seven, deadly prickler porcupine, poisonous spikes removed by poacher / goes invisible when nervous. Carefully pouring some whack-ass mixture of leaves and berries, I tilted the bucket. It took exactly four seconds for Phoebe to appear— three inches from my face, standing on her hind legs. Endless abyss of shadow-filled eyes poured into my very being. Screaming, I sent a combination of vulgar words into the world as I fell on my ass. Berries rolled, I scurried, and my legs scattered under me. I dove out of the gate, breathing and noting that Phoebe had vanished again. Everything went downhill after that. Swallowing whatever mixture of raw emotions remained in my throat, I fixed the skirt of my dress, wiping my hands on its brown cotton fabric, and held my tongue. Keep going, Reece. Butters, the bear, stood on the opposite side of the pasture. Butters: ten, pimbrough bear, only eats veggies and fruit / starved in cage as cub. Pimbrough bears are known for (1) skin that cannot be pierced, and (2) producing a fluid under their fur that has been known to provide the same shield-like properties if curated correctly. They’re often hunted and caged, which was how Butters was found. His body had grown to fit the cage. With his bad bones, he couldn’t hunt and survive in the wild on his own.”

FeedingBearMagical CreaturesCaretakerPorcupine
Book:Second Time's a Charm
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