Boyle Food Quotes

Music was like food, like water, like air - that necessary, that essential - and here she was in a break-on-through mood and nothing for it but her own stumbling version caught like lint on her tongue.

shrimp and green peppers are shriveling in my refrigerator

Chekyns upon soppes” (basically chicken on cinnamon toast) from the 1545 early Tudor cookbook A Propre Newe Booke of Cokerye: Chekyns upon soppes. Take sorel sauce a good quantitie and put in Sinamon and suger and lette it boyle and poure it upon the soppes then laie on the chekyns.

People trying to be cool in Glasgow don’t have loads of reference points to work with, so they often have to cobble together a personality from movie characters and food allergies

limped out of bed to face the disappointed gaze of the bathroom mirror. My body looked like a dropped lasagne. I hadn’t shaved for a couple of weeks, and had enough of a beard for it to be a bit of a food diary.

On October 23, the Unification Board rejected the union’s petition, refusing to grant the raise. If any hearings had been held on the matter, Rearden had not known about it. He had not been consulted, informed or notified. He had waited, volunteering no questions. On October 25, the newspapers of the country, controlled by the same men who controlled the Board, began a campaign of commiseration with the workers of Rearden Steel. They printed stories about the refusal of the wage raise, omitting any mention of who had refused it or who held the exclusive legal power to refuse, as if counting on the public to forget legal technicalities under a barrage of stories implying that an employer was the natural cause of all miseries suffered by employees. They printed a story describing the hardships of the workers of Rearden Steel under the present rise in the cost of their living—next to a story describing Hank Rearden’s profits, of five years ago. They printed a story on the plight of a Rearden worker’s wife trudging from store to store in a hopeless quest for food—next to a story about a champagne bottle broken over somebody’s head at a drunken party given by an unnamed steel tycoon at a fashionable hotel; the steel tycoon had been Orren Boyle, but the story mentioned no names. “Inequalities still exist among us,” the newspapers were saying, “and cheat us of the benefits of our enlightened age.” “Privations have worn the nerves and temper of the people. The situation is reaching the danger point. We fear an outbreak of violence.” “We fear an outbreak of violence,” the newspapers kept repeating.

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life?

Octopuses love to eat crabs. But in the lab they're often fed on thawed out frozen shrimp or squid. It takes octopuses awhile to get used to these second-rate foods, but eventually they do. One day Boyle was walking down a row of tanks feeding each octopus a piece of thawed squid as she passed. On reaching the end of the row she walked back the way she had come. The octopus in the first tank, though, seem to be waiting for her. It had not eaten its squid but instead was holding it conspicuously. As Boyle stood there, the octopus made its way slowly across the tank towards the outflow pipe, watching her all the way. When it reached the outflow pipe, still watching her, it dumped the scrap of squid down the drain.

Several major and significant discoveries in science occurred in the 19th and 20th century through the works of scientists who believed in God. Even in just the last 500 years of modern scientific enterprise, a great many scientists were religious including names like Isaac Newton, Nicholas Copernicus, Johannes Kepler, Robert Boyle, William Thomson Kelvin, Michael Faraday, James Clerk Maxwell, Louis Pasteur and Nobel Laureate scientists like: 1.Max Planck 2.Guglielmo Marconi 3.Robert A. Milikan 4.Erwin Schrodinger 5.Arthur Compton 6.Isidor Isaac Rabi 7.Max Born 8.Dererk Barton 9.Nevill F. Mott 10.Charles H. Townes 11.Christian B. Anfinsen 12.John Eccles 13.Ernst B. Chain 14.Antony Hewish 15.Daniel Nathans 16.Abdus Salam 17.Joseph Murray 18.Joseph H. Taylor 19.William D. Phillips 20.Walter Kohn 21.Ahmed Zewail 22.Aziz Sancar 23.Gerhard Etrl Thus, it is important for the torchbearers of science to know their scope and highlight what they can offer to society in terms of curing diseases, improving food production and easing transport and communication systems, for instance. To mock faith and faithful, the scientists who do not believe in God do not just hurt the faithful people who are non-scientists, but a great many of their own colleagues who are scientists, but not atheists.

For hunters and gatherers, the Moon was literally a guide, allowing people to see at night and to plan their lives. When people got good at growing food and taming animals and built the world’s first cities, they continued using the Moon for practical reasons. It shone upon the fields and the city streets. You could watch your grains and your sheep, and you could walk down the road at night to your home or shop. This obvious benefit eventually evolved into a more spiritual connection to the sky and its forces. Maybe the holy Moon was a vestigial reminder of the first farmers’ hunter-gatherer heritage; maybe the original stories morphed into myths, and the Moon’s light became evidence of beneficence or intentional aid.

The first creatures to assist in humanity’s collective disorientation were not humans but tortoises, packed alongside a bunch of seeds into a Russian spacecraft called Zond 5. Twelve days before their launch in September 1968, the tortoises were strapped in the rocket capsule and deprived of food and water, so scientists would be able to study any changes in their bodies without being confused by the activity of their metabolisms. The tortoises had no Earthly idea what was happening, but if they felt any sort of humanlike emotions, surely one of them was confusion. How strange, to be immobilized without anything to eat or drink for two weeks, to then be launched off the world. At least the humans who followed the tortoises knew where they were going, and had some idea of why.

After capturing the gibbous Earth, something went wrong with Zond 5’s camera, and the spacecraft wasn’t able to bring home photos of the Moon’s surface. But it did bring back the tortoises. They might have achieved some level of reptilian notoriety had they been given names, but the Soviets just referred to them, rather coldly, as “the experimental animals.” Though they were deprived of food and drink, they flew with all the trappings of a meal and the scent of home: seeds of peas, carrots, and tomatoes, wildflowers and pine; and some samples of humanity’s most important crops, wheat and barley, so scientists could study how the seeds fared in space. The Sumerian beer goddess Ninkasi would have been proud. They circled the Moon on September 18, 1968 c.e., and on September 21, their capsule splashed down in the Indian Ocean with incredible force. U.S. intelligence later reported that the capsule careened through the atmosphere with the speed and energy of a meteorite, a violent journey that would have killed a human. But the tortoises survived. Then they traveled back to Moscow, where scientists cut them open and examined every inch of their starved, desiccated bodies.

They caught him again, at the foot of the woods, and he fought them with his teeth and his claws but they were bigger, stronger, and they carried him back as they always had and always would because there was no freedom, not anymore. Now he was a creature of the walls and the rooms and a slave to the food they gave him.

While I’m out working with Tommy Quinn, we get chatting about a session, a few nights previous, in a local pub called The Hill. It gets its name from the plain fact that it sits on top of a hill. The conversation moves on to the state of rural Ireland, and rural everywhere for that matter. He’s lived here in Knockmoyle for all of his life, so his opinions on the subject hold weight with me. He asks me what technology I think had the most dramatic impact on life here when he was growing up. I state what I feel are obvious: the television, the motor car and computers. Or electricity in general. Tommy smiles. The flask, he says. I ask him to explain. When he was growing up in the 1960s, he and his family would go to the bog, along with most of the other families of the parish, to cut turf for fuel for the following winter. They would all help each other out in any way they could, even if they didn’t always fully get on. Cutting turf in the old ways, using a sleán, is hard but convivial work, so each day one family would make a campfire to boil the kettle on. But the campfire had a more significant role than just hydrating the workers. As well as keeping the midges away, it was a focal point that brought folk together during important seasonal events. During the day people would have the craic around it as the tea brewed, and in the evenings food would be cooked on it. By nightfall, with the day’s work behind them, the campfire became the place where music, song and dance would spontaneously happen. Before the night was out, one of the old boys would hide one of the young lads’ wheelbarrows, providing no end of banter the following morning.