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Lobsters Quotes

Browse 9 quotes about Lobsters.

Lobsters Quotes

“So much seafood was once dismissed as the debris of the sea: eels, snared from the Thames River in sixteenth-century England and tucked into pies in lieu of meat; clams, eaten by New England colonists only in times of desperation; oysters, offered all-you-can-eat for 6 cents at bars in nineteenth-century New York City; whelks, pickled and trundled by wheelbarrow through London streets, which in the mid-nineteenth century the British social reformer Henry Mayhew tallied “among the delicacies of the poor” and which housemaids wouldn’t eat in public, lest they be judged unladylike. Even lowlier were lobsters, scorned as indiscriminate bottom feeders, fobbed off on servants and put on prison menus, or else consigned to fertilizer. Their flesh and shells are still used in this way, as their high concentration of nitrogen and calcium helps plants grow.”

PovertySeafoodDeprivationFood ScienceLobsters
Book:The Best American Food Writing 2022: A Curated Collection of Mouthwatering and Comforting Culinary Articles
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“The crowd waited with bated breath as the first neurologically-enhanced lobster elected President of the United States clambered toward the podium. The lobster hovered over the microphone, clamped its claws and rubbed its antennae. A storm of neurons fired inside its ganglia, and its mandibles burbled out a rousing acceptance speech. The men whooped and hollered at the significance of the moment, while the women, relegated to years of waiting for their turn, clapped tepidly.”

MenPoetryWomenPoemGenderMisogynyPresidentsGender BiasGender RelationsLobsters
Book:Mexicans on the Moon: Speculative Poetry from a Possible Future
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“Lobsters fascinated me. Everything from their name to their claws to their magnificent red had me hooked. My hair was that read, the kind of read that looks okay on everything but people, because a person's hair is not supposed to be red. Orange, yes. Auburn, sure. But not lobster red. I took my pigtails, pressed them against the glass, and stared the nearest lobster straight in the eye. Dad said my hair was lobster red. My mother said it was Communist red. I didn't know what a Communist was, but it didn't sound good. Even pressing my hair flat against the glass, I couldn't tell if my dad was right. Part of me didn't want either of them to be right. "Let me out," said the lobster. He always said that. I rubbed my hair against the glass like the tank was a genie's lamp and the action would stir up some magic. Maybe, somehow, I could get these lobsters out. They looked so sad, all huddled on top of one another, antennae twitching, claws rubber-banded together.”

AlexLobstersParanoid SchizophreniaThe Lobster Tank
Book:Made You Up
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“So full. Full of lobster meat and the sadness of the lobster meat. Full of the feeling of having cracked hundreds upon hundreds of precious shells. Full of the sound and the sight of destruction, the lobsters dead in a pile, some of them with lipstick marks on their empty husks. Their voices piled up on one another. I felt a whispering coming from deep within my belly, the voices not yet at rest, and they said in a tone sympathetic and unsympathetic at the same time, Next Next Next. 'Well,' I said, 'what do we do next?' 'Lobster dinner?' he asked, chuckling a little as if I ought to be chuckling with him as well.”

SadnessHorrorDisturbingCreepyFullAlexandra KleemanIntimationsLobstersLobster Dinner
Book:Intimations: Stories
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