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Muffins Quotes

Browse 81 quotes about Muffins.

Muffins Quotes

“I want to have a case of breads over there- whole wheat, rye- and English muffins, and cranberry-nut, blueberry-lemon, and white chocolate raspberry muffins over there. I want a table in the middle filled with nothing but cookies- the dark-chocolate-walnut-toffee ones, coconut macaroons, peanut butter drops with the little Hershey's Kisses in the middle, and sugar cookies. And then on the left, I'm thinking pies: apple, peach, and cherry daily, and maybe chocolate cream espresso for special occasions. Plus, I want to have a wall for all different kinds of specials. Maybe a certain bread- like Irish soda bread for St. Patrick's Day, fruitcake for Christmas, or challah bread for Passover- whatever.”

“No I am not okay. I've just been pulled out of play tryouts where I had to be the first to audition and everyone's trying out for the same parts, I just had a very bizarre conversation with the school secretary, Megan may be throwing up her cucumber sandwiches, I've broken five of the seven deadly sins in as many hours, a demon may be inside a girl in my world religions class, Grant Brawner called me by name, my license photo looks like a dead fish, I have to drive my friends all over town in two hours when I've never even driven without Dad before, none of my birthday wishes have come true yet, and now you're here with muffins like I'm in second grade? So, no, I am not ok.”

“Nellie didn't make these lavender muffins often, as they brought forth memories of her mother in better days, which was difficult. Yet, it remained one of her favorite recipes. Lemon the flavor of sunshine, and lavender, a most powerful herb. It symbolized feminine beauty and grace, and Nellie could think of nothing better with which to celebrate Martha's recent delivery.”

“I plucked a sprig of rosemary from the pot in the windowsill, and as I inhaled its fresh scent, something flashed in my mind. I went to the pantry and took out a jar of wildflower honey. I held it up to make sure I had enough, and the sun lit it up like a jar of gold. There was that flash again- I almost had it, but it slipped away. I preheated the oven and mixed my ingredients. I sprinkled in the fragrant rosemary. Remember, Mimi. What have you forgotten? By the time I got the pan in the oven, Dad had come downstairs. He sniffed the air. "Rosemary, huh? What are you making?" "Rosemary-honey-olive oil muffins." "Did you add white pepper, like we talked about last time?" I grinned. "A tiny bit. Next time, do you think we should try it with goat's milk?”

“Liam's hash brown casserole can only be described as so over-the-top ridiculous I fear Paula Deen is sitting somewhere cackling about it. I can tell that there is cheese, butter, and sour cream in there, and do not want to know what else. It is delicious, as are the perfectly dried eggs, crispy bacon, buttery toast, and juicy sausages. The muffins are banana chocolate chip, otherwise known as breakfast cake.”

“Seven extra grams of grated nutmeg makes all the difference. Best cinnamon-streusel pumpkin muffin ever. Or at least so far." I opened my eyes, making a slow assessment of my kitchen. Four other batches of pumpkin muffins littered the countertop, many of them on their sides after I took one bite and impatiently tossed them aside. This batch, the fifth, was the queen of the bunch. "I do have some reservations about the pecans." My fluffy panda-head slippers slapped on the wood floors as I walked back to the oven. Holding my butter-smudged working recipe up to the light, I considered the next round of alterations. "I wonder about almonds. Or no! Pistachios!”

“I unload the almond poppy seed muffins into a cloth-lined basket, and their sweet, vaguely nutty perfume fills the air. Unlike his sturdy raisin bran muffins, which are dense, dark, and chockablock with plump raisins, the almond poppy seed muffins are delicate and cakey, their crumb so light and tender they threaten to float out of the basket. When Rick isn't looking, I sneak a bite of one of the broken muffin tops, and before I know it I've eaten the entire thing, the flavor as rich as the texture is light, bursting with sweet almond essence.”

“Like plowing, housework makes the ground ready for the germination of family life. The kids will not invite a teacher home if beer cans litter the living room. The family isn't likely to have breakfast together if somebody didn't remember to buy eggs, milk, or muffins. Housework maintains an orderly setting in which family life can flourish.”

“I found myself face to face with a long line of people resembling extras off the set of Night of the Living Dead: shuffling along, pale and twitching, empty cups in hand -- murderous. Miserable. No matter that the air was rich with vapors of fresh-ground beans and warm muffins; no matter that the soft piped-in Vivaldi poured over us like steamed milk. These angry zombies were rushing to work, and their eyes flashed fair warning: Don't mess with us. We haven't had our coffee.”

“Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in the great arm-chair by the bedside, and Son lay tucked up warm in a little basket bedstead, carefully disposed on a low settee immediately in front of the fire and close to it, as if his constitution were analogous to that of a muffin, and it was essential to toast him brown while he was very new.”

“You don't get tired of muffins, but you don't find inspiration in them.”

“Imagine, if you can, what the rest of the evening was like. How they crouched by the fire which blazed and leaped and made much of itself in the little grate. How they removed the covers of the dishes, and found rich, hot savory soup, which was a meal in itself, and sandwiches and toast and muffins enough for both of them.”

“We all have to pick our battles. You've got to draw a line in the sand and stand firm. And it's this squishiness that's really the enemy, like, "Well, I don't know, it's kind of OK but I kind of feel guilty, and I kind of want a bran muffin, I don't know, and I'm wearing a vest; it's crocheted." Shut up. Just pick your battle and just stand there, and whatever you are going to do, own it.”

“I had NO interest in being a theologian, especially not a Christian, as I had been raised by progressive atheists. We bowed down every morning to the golden calf of the New York Times, Noam Chomsky, Hannah Arendt. I tried to get my parents to respect and nourish me, let alone delight in me, so even though I secretly loved and believed in the Divine Something - Goodness, Good Orderly Direction, Gift of Desperation, the Cosmic Muffin - I wasn't ready yet to commit myself to the study of a higher power.”

“'We Were the Mulvaneys' is perhaps the novel closest to my heart. I think of it as a valentine to a passing way of American life, and to my own particular child - and girlhood in upstate New York. Everyone in the novel is enormously close to me, including Marianne's cat, Muffin, who was in fact my own cat.”

“Good heavens, I suppose a man may eat his own muffins in his own garden." "But you have just said it was perfectly heartless to eat muffins!" "I said it was perfectly heartless of YOU under the circumstances. That is a very different thing." "That may be, but the muffins are the same!”

“In the two months I had also dated Justin Fellowes, this guy in my Spanish class, though after three weeks we decided we should "see other people," which in my case was a joke, but it beat hearing him remark on everything I ate. 'I don't know why girls are always on a diet,' he'd say when I ordered a Diet Coke, and 'You should watch your starch intake' when I had a muffin.”