Cookie Cutters Quotes

The cookie cutter shark can detect electric pulses, using this ability to catch its prey. Laura wonders whether she will ever feel electricity.

I like to save things. Not important things like whales or people or the environment. Silly things. Porcelain bells, the kind you get at souvenir shops. Cookie cutters you’ll never use, because who needs a cookie in the shape of a foot? Ribbons for my hair. Love letters. Of all the things I save, I guess you could say my love letters are my most prized possession.

Anya looked upon Nin admirably. Having him as a partner-in-crime—if only on this one occasion, which she hoped would only be the start of something more—was more revitalizing than the cheap thrills of a cookie-cutter shallow, superficial romance, where the top priority was how beautiful a person was on the outside.

The Ad♥rkable Manifesto 1. We have nothing to declare but our dorkiness. 2. Jumble sales are our shopping malls. 3. Better to make cookies than be a cookie-cutter. 4. Suffering doesn’t necessarily improve you but it does give you something to blog about. 5. Experiment with Photoshop, hair dye, nail polish and cupcake flavours but never drugs. 6. Don’t follow leaders, be one. 7. Necessity is the mother of customisation. 8. Puppies make everything better. 9. Quiet girls rarely make history. 10. Never shield your oddness, but wear your oddness like a shield.

It was as though the darkness was a sheet of raw cookie dough and someone had just taken a cookie cutter and made a child-sized shape out of it.

Don't worry about offending people. Any time you write something thought provoking, some idiots will complain, because they hate it when you make them think.

Life goes different ways for different people. Some people’s lives are formed by a cookie cutter and some are immediately tossed from the kitchen.

She grins and links her hand through mine. "That right there,' she whispers. "I want you to hold on to that. No matter what happens, you remember that this world is more than the agony it contains. We can have happiness, Salama. Maybe it doesn't come in a cookie-cutter format, but we will take the fragments and we will rebuild it.

You can't control another person's agenda. You can only be clear about your own.

She consoled herself with the thought that she looked terrifying.

Well, that was sort of offensive, as if being alone with me was equivalent to drowning while being nom nom'd on by cookie cutter sharks

There isn't just one cookie cutter in the shape of stardom, my friend; it comes in many sizes and colors. You just have to map out your own destination to it.

He handed me a bandana. "Tie that on." "Why?" I said, but I did it anyway. "Norman, you are way too into ceremony." "It's important." I could hear him moving around, adjusting things, before he came to sit beside me. "Okay," he said. "Take a look." I pulled off the blindfold. Beside me, Norman watched me see myself for the first time. And it was me. At least, it was a girl who looked like me. She was sitting on the back stoop of the restaurant, legs crossed and dangling down. She had her head slightly tilted, as if she had been asked something and was waiting for the right moment to respond, smiling slightly behind the sunglasses that were perched on her nose, barely reflecting part of a blue sky. The girl was something else, though. Something I hadn't expected. She was beautiful. Not in the cookie-cutter way of all the faces encircling Isabel's mirror. And not in the easy, almost effortless style of a girl like Caroline Dawes. This girl who stared back at me, with her lip ring and her half smile - not quite earned - knew she wasn't like the others. She knew the secret. And she'd clicked her heels three times to find her way home. "Oh, my God," I said to Norman, reaching forward to touch the painting, which still didn't seem real. My own face, bumpy and textured beneath my fingers, stared back at me. "Is this how you see me?" "Colie." He was right beside me. "That's how you are.

But that’s the thing about mental illness; there’s no such thing as a cookie-cutter diagnosis. We’re all crazy in our own special way. Some of us just have it worse than others.

I am opposed to Naperville. It's all cute, trendy and expensive, and filled with cookie-cutter Borg houses that assimilate you into upper-middle-class America.

Witchcraft is never cookie-cutter. Like recipes from a book, the recipes are often tailored to individual tastes as long as the general formula and steps are understood.

Elle slammed the reindeer cookie cutter down and viciously yanked the extra dough from around it. Her mother, brother, and sisters all stopped to stare at her. “Whoa. Put the reindeer down gently and step away from Santa,

But then she says, "What if we use our cookie cutter to make heart-shaped pancakes instead? And put in red food coloring?" I beam at her. "Attagirl!" So maybe she's got a little bit of me in her after all. Kitty continues. "We could put red food coloring in the syrup, too, to make it look like blood. A bloody heart!

Forgiveness, by its nature, must often go into very hard places. I know. I’ve gone there. But forgiveness is not foolish and blind, an unthinking make-nice. Wisdom sometimes must tell even people who’ve genuinely forgiven to take ongoing steps that are hard to implement and apply and which to others may not look very forgiving. The heart of forgiveness can’t be judged in black-and-white, cookie-cutter dimensions that work fine in a spiritual lab but not in real life.

forward-thinking teachers and school administrators across the country are creating a whole range of alternatives to cookie-cutter teaching and evaluation methods, such as the use of student portfolios and exhibitions in addition to conventional exams to assess students' progress.

. . . New York doesn't leave a lot of time for pondering forks in the road. People who have paused to gather their wits often find themselves suddenly waking up in a cookie-cutter beige apartment in Hoboken. I will not ever leave New York. I don't know how long it takes to become a true New Yorker, but I assume that if I die here ... that would qualify me.

I don’t have cookie-cutter relationships, Rumi. Women aren’t iPhone apps that I download and discard!

He glanced at Megan’s mother, his gaze allowing for no argument. “This woman by my side is the woman I want to marry, exactly as she is right now. I don’t want her transformed into some cookie-cutter Barbie doll, so don’t you dare try to do it.

            Tempting as it may be to draw one conclusion or another from my story and universalize it to apply to another's experience, it is not my intention for my book to be seen as some sort of cookie-cutter approach and explanation of mental illness, It is not ab advocacy of any particular form of therapy over another. Nor is it meant to take sides in the legitimate and necessary debate within the mental health profession if which treatments are most effective for this or any other mental illness.             What it is, I hope, is a way for readers to get a true feel for what it's like to be in the grips of mental illness and what it's like to strive for recovery.

There are all these relationships that are like cookie cutter shapes; identical and repetitive. Then there are all these relationships that aren't even relationships! Just facades for show and tell. But every once and a while, you'll see this bird breaking out of this cage and it's so weird and it's so obscure and you've hardly ever seen it before so you don't even know at first if you should name it Ugly or Beautiful! Relationships, stories of love, that just shatter the walls around the mind. They made it. They broke through. Like Ugly-Beautiful birds bursting forth from rusty cages! And then suddenly you stop and you think to yourself, "Maybe love really is real.

I want us to understand that nuance is freeing and freedom. There is no such thing as cookie-cutter healing. Everyone brings with them an origin story, a history, and identities that are interconnected. There is room to rest in the freedom of managing your own deprogramming journey. It is never either/or and always both/and. You don’t have to grind, hustle, accept burnout as normal, and be in a constant state of exhaustion and sleep deprivation. You don’t have to kill yourself spiritually or physically to live a fruitful life.

I think future generations are going to look back at our time period and call this the Age of Narcissism.

Cookie cutters are for baking, not branding.

there are no cookie cutters in heaven.

Ten short years ago, nobody had ever heard of a selfie. But today every decent cell phone has not one but two cameras, so you can take idiotic duck face pictures. And don't forget the billion dollar selfie-stick industry. Capitalism has found a whole new way to turn our vanity into profit.

College is the grinding machine of the Mathematical Establishment, a conveyor belt that takes individuals from one cookie cutter to another so that the product comes within tight control limits out of the assembly line.

The last thing this world needs is another self-help or feel-good faith book, seven simple steps to whatever. Just the thought makes my stomach turn. The truth is that life is far too complex to be put in a box, labeled, and have the appropriate manual attached. I wonder, have these people who seem to have all the answers ever really experienced hardship or grief, true joy, or adventure? Have they ever really lived? For those of us who venture outside the cookie cutter lives that many settle for, a superficial, plastic faith with the corresponding instruction booklet will do nothing. When we take the brave step from the comfortable mainstream into the unknown, we quickly discover that we are all just travelers on a journey trying to find our way.

When weight loss is conflated with veganism, it falls into dangerous area of body shaming and misogyny. Mainstream media loves to make women feel inferior when it comes to their bodies and unfortunately veganism has recently become another weapon and this sexist war on our society. Thin white women are used to sell veganism as a quick fix to a more desirable body at the expense of anyone who doesn't fit the cookie cutter idea of female perfection. In addition, these images and messages work to oppress women of colour and people living with disabilities. Selling veganism as anything other than caring for animals often leads to oppression, plain and simple. We need to resist this approach to promoting veganism by drawing the fight back to animals. Every single time.

I can’t stand people with exclusivity issues. We’re all unique. It’s part of the beauty of life. We’re all individual gifts, perspectives, and skills. This bullshit belief that one cookie cutter ideal of perfection fits all, gives too many small minded people an inflated sense of self. I’m

People have always been vain. Can you imagine what it was like when some guy invented the first mirror? Maidens probably spent all day and night just staring at their own reflection in the dim candle light of their drafty castle tower, back when the first mirrors were cutting edge technology.

Once we name something, you said, we can never see it the same way again. All that is unnameable falls away, gets lost, is murdered. You called this the cookie-cutter function of our minds. You said that you knew this not from shunning language but from immersion in it, on the screen, in conversation, onstage, on the page.

One thing I’ve learnt in this life is that everyone is different. There is no cookie cutter mold to create the perfect look, the perfect shape, the perfect size. It doesn’t exist. The only thing that truly exists is imperfection. And it’s in all of us. Learning to embrace our imperfections, even loving them, is the biggest hurdle most of us face.

I like to save things. Not important things like whales or people or the environment. Silly things. Porcelain bells, the kind you get at souvenir shops. Cookie cutters you’ll never use, because who needs a cookie in the shape of a foot? Ribbons for my hair. Love letters. Of all the things I save, I guess you could say my love letters are my most prized possession. I keep my letters in a teal hatbox my mom bought me from a vintage store downtown. They aren’t love letters that someone else wrote for me; I don’t have any of those. These are ones I’ve written. There’s one for every boy I’ve ever loved—five in all. When I write, I hold nothing back. I write like he’ll never read it. Because he never will. Every secret thought, every careful observation, everything I’ve saved up inside me, I put it all in the letter. When I’m done, I seal it, I address it, and then I put it in my teal hatbox. They’re not love letters in the strictest sense of the word. My letters are for when I don’t want to be in love anymore. They’re for good-bye. Because after I write my letter, I’m no longer consumed by my all-consuming love. I can eat my cereal and not wonder if he likes bananas over his Cheerios too; I can sing along to love songs and not be singing them to him. If love is like a possession, maybe my letters are like my exorcisms. My letters set me free. Or at least they’re supposed to.

I take her face between my hands. I kiss her forehead, I kiss her nose, I kiss her eyes. And when our lips meet, I kiss her soul.

Everyone thinks they're entitled to their 15 minutes of fame. And it's that narcissism that makes people, who have no business writing a book, think they can write a book.

You're not the butcher, selling sausages. You're the cow, pre-sausage.

Pro tip: If you can't think of anything more interesting to post on social media than a picture of your cup of coffee, you are boring and you have nothing interesting to say.

Conformists are boring. Artists are interesting. That's the difference between a wannabe writer and a real writer.

I've got dreams and goals waiting for me to catch up to them

And I think Rory, who studied accounting at UT Austin and now does precisely that, has such a boring, cookie-cutter, picket-fence life that I’d rather claw out my eyeballs than live it.

Peacekeeper Christmas Spice Cookies 225g butter, softened 200g sugar 235ml molasses 1 egg 2 tbsp. sour cream 750g all-purpose flour 2 tbsp. baking powder 5g baking soda 1 tsp. ground cinnamon 1 tsp. ground ginger pinch salt 145g chopped walnuts 145g golden raisins 145g chopped dates In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together. Add the molasses, egg and sour cream; mix well. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger and salt; gradually add to creamed mixture. Stir in walnuts, raisins and dates. Chill for 2 hours or until easy to handle. On a floured surface, roll out dough finely. Cut with a 21/2-inch round cookie cutter. Place on greased baking sheets. Bake at 325°F for 12–15 minutes. Cool completely.

Her name was a joke, she said, like Karen Cutter's family nick-naming her Cookie, or poor Marie Antoinette Jones, whose parents had liked the sound of the name but who were a tad weak in French history.

I marvel at how wildly different each of their stories is. It’s proof that our lives were never meant to be cookie-cutter, culturally constructed carbon copies of some ideal. There is no one way to live, love, raise children, arrange a family, run a school, a community, a nation. The norms were created by somebody, and each of us is somebody. We can make our own normal. We can throw out all the rules and write our own. We can build our lives from the inside out. We can stop asking what the world wants from us and instead ask ourselves what we want for our world. We can stop looking at what’s in front of us long enough to discover what’s inside us. We can remember and unleash the life-changing, relationship-changing, world-changing power of our own imagination. It might take us a lifetime. Luckily, a lifetime is exactly how long we have.

Even if there were no more books published ever, there are still more books in existence today than anyone can read. And most of them suck. Good luck trying to find a good one. It's like finding a needle in a hay stack.

When we embark on the writing journey, it is an inevitable truth that we draw upon personal experiences in creating our characters. Our experiences shape us and shape how we see the world around us. From a creative perspective, personal experiences are a gold mine. How deep we are willing to go into our personal experience can mean the difference between a bland, cookie cutter archetype and a compelling character – either protagonist or antagonist.

Books used to be written by humanity's greatest thinkers, or at least our greatest entertainers. Now every halfwit can publish his verbal diarrhea. And millions of shitty, mediocre, uninspired, trite books are drowning out mankind's greatest literary accomplishments.

I’d wanted love ever since I was a cookie-cutter little girl being brainwashed by cookie-cutter Disney movies about cookie-cutter princes and princesses falling into cookie-cutter love and then prancing off to their cookie-cutter castles to live out their cookie-cutter lives.

That was the tribal system at school: the girls—giggly gaggles of Miley Cyrus clones, the jocks in their swaggering gangs … and finally the third category, the ones like Edward Chan—the freaks. Loners, emos, geeks, nerds: the cookies that didn’t quite fit the cookie-cutter machine that was high school.

How about we just cut the waffle into the shape of a heart instead?” “That would look so cheap,” I scoff. But she’s right. There’s no sense in buying something we’d only ever use once a year, even if it only costs $19.99. As Kitty gets older, I see that she is far more like Margot than me. But then she says, “What if we use our cookie cutter to make heart-shaped pancakes instead? And put in red food coloring?” I beam at her. “Attagirl!” So maybe she’s got a little bit of me in her after all. Kitty continues. “We could put red food coloring in the syrup, too, to make it look like blood. A bloody heart!” No, never mind. Kitty is all her own.

Sean was starting to remind her of the croque-monsieur she once ordered in Nice. At first glance, it looked like a plain, cookie-cutter grilled cheese, nothing special. But when she bit into it, the cheese was Brie and there were chopped-up portabello mushrooms hidden underneath. There was a lot more to it than it had appeared. Sean

Scroll through a list of books online, and you will find page after page after page of book covers with shirtless guys and titles that scream BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE! or ALPHA-MALE PARANORMAL WEREWOLF ROMANCE! or something equally ridiculous. All these shitty books look like clones of each other. There's not an original thought in sight.

Whispering Pines, Palmetto Groves, Majestic Manor, Golden Gables, Century Village, Martin Downs, Sunburn Acres, Twin Beavers, or Sunset Farts. Who gives a shit? It’s the same old Florida crap. However these places get named, rest assured, the more lyrical the moniker, the more of a sunblasted, cookie-cutter nightmare the place will be.

I took control of a Happy Helpdesk avatar, a cookie-cutter Ken doll that I used to take tech-support calls. This avatar appeared inside a huge virtual call center, inside a virtual cubicle, sitting at a virtual desk, in front of a virtual computer, wearing a virtual phone headset. I thought of this place as my own private virtual hell.

This was the time when all we could talk about was sentences, sentences—nothing else stirred us. Whatever happened in those days, whatever befell our regard, Clea and I couldn’t rest until it had been converted into what we told ourselves were astonishingly unprecedented and charming sentences: “Esther’s cleavage is something to be noticed” or “You can’t have a contemporary prison without contemporary furniture” or “I envision an art which will make criticism itself seem like a cognitive symptom, one which its sufferers define to themselves as taste but is in fact nothing of the sort” or “I said I want my eggs scrambled not destroyed.” At the explosion of such a sequence from our green young lips, we’d rashly scribble it on the wall of our apartment with a filthy wax pencil, or type it twenty-five times on the same sheet of paper and then photocopy the paper twenty-five times and then slice each page into twenty-five slices on the paper cutter in the photocopy shop and then scatter the resultant six hundred and twenty-five slips of paper throughout the streets of our city, fortunes without cookies.

Gentrification is often presented as a sort of corrective to the suburbs: instead of white flight and unsustainable cookie-cutter planning, we get dense, urban, and diverse cityscapes. But gentrification is simply a new form of the same process that created the suburbs; it's the same age-old, racist process of subsidizing and privileging the lives and preferred locales of the wealthy and white over those of poor people of color. The seesaw has just tipped in the other direction. Gentrification does not mean that the suburbs are over, or that cities are becoming more diverse. All it means is that our geography of inequality is being redrawn. Gentrification is not integration but a new form of segregation. The borders around the ghettos have simply been rebuilt.

He took a trip ... up to ... Elliott's house, his mansion rather. Awful place, twelve bedrooms and swimming pool and media hall and five car garage, but cheap and shoddy all the same, like the one next door and next door to that. A row of Ikea houses, such wealthy mediocrity. His very own son. His big, bald son. Who could believe it. The bigness, the baldness, the stupidity. In a house designed to bore the daylight out of visitors, no character at all, all blonde wood and fluorescent lighting and clean white machinery. Not to mention his brand new wife, number three, a clean white machine herself. Up from the cookie cutter and into Elliott's life, she might as well have jumped out of the microwave, her skin orange, her teeth pearly white. A trophy wife. But why the word "trophy"? Something to shoot on a safari.

He had to teach me to be more disciplined without dampening my love for chess or suppressing my natural voice. Many teachers have no feel for this balance and try to force their students into cookie-cutter molds. I have run into quite a few egomaniacal instructors like this over the years and have come to believe that their method is profoundly destructive for students in the long run—in any case, it certainly would not have worked with me. I

When we nurture, we need to do so from the deepest part of ourselves. Trying to fit into a "cookie-cutter" mold of nurturing will only frustrate and be harmful to both ourselves and our loved ones, cheating them of our full nurturing potential. To nurture is to be aware of our most true self and to give from that place. We make challah from a place of commitment to nourish ourselves and our families in a way that goes beyond mere physical feeding and watering.

I think we all need to learn to like ourselves-just the way we are. And if there are moderate ways to improve our looks and if we're doing it for the right reasons (not to impress our friends!), then maybe it's just fine. Beauty is very subjective-meaning that it all depends on your personal taste. I think that's why God made us all different. So instead of turning ourselves into cookie-cutter images of the latest fashion icon, why not take a moment to enjoy our differences?

I’m hot-gluing white bric-a-brac around a heart as I wonder aloud, “Should we do a special breakfast for Daddy? We could buy one of those juicers at the mall and make fresh-squeezed pink grapefruit juice. And I think I saw heart waffle makers online for not very expensive.” “Daddy doesn’t like grapefruit,” Kitty says. “And we barely use our regular waffle maker as it is. How about we just cut the waffle into the shape of a heart instead?” “That would look so cheap,” I scoff. But she’s right. There’s no sense in buying something we’d only ever use once a year, even if it only costs $19.99. As Kitty gets older, I see that she is far more like Margot than me. But then she says, “What if we use our cookie cutter to make heart-shaped pancakes instead? And put in red food coloring?” I beam at her. “Attagirl!” So maybe she’s got a little bit of me in her after all. Kitty continues. “We could put red food coloring in the syrup, too, to make it look like blood. A bloody heart!” No, never mind. Kitty is all her own.

We lose ourselves and our identity in moments of unnaming, but we must return to those places to find ourselves and, even more so, to find God. This concept is hard to grasp because it’s the opposite of what we assume to be true. We think we’ll be happy if we can escape the past, but it is truer that without our past we are vacant beings with bland names and cookie-cutter stories. As we enter the places where we lost our name, we are most likely to hear the whisper of our new name—the name God will give us.

Rookie Cinnamon Sugar Doughnuts* Parental supervision necessary for frying Makes 8 doughnuts and 8 doughnut holes Ingredients Vegetable oil 1 (8-count) tube of premade, large biscuit dough (found in the refrigerated dough aisle at supermarkets) ½ cup sugar ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon Directions 1. Fill a large saucepan with vegetable oil to a depth of 1 inch. 2. Heat oil over medium heat until it reaches 365°F. You can measure the temperature with a cooking oil thermometer. Or, drop a single kernel of popcorn into the oil as it’s heating. When the kernel pops, you’re ready to fry. 3. While the oil heats, open the biscuit tube and separate the rounds. Use a 1-inch-round cookie cutter to cut a hole in the center of each biscuit. Save the holes. 4. Mix the sugar and cinnamon in a large shallow bowl. 5. Add 2 doughnuts to the hot oil at a time. Cook, turning once, until golden brown—about 1 minute per side. 6. Drain on paper towels and immediately toss in the cinnamon sugar to coat. Cool on a wire rack. Repeat with the remaining doughnuts and holes.

BACON, EGG, AND CHEDDAR CHEESE TOAST CUPS Preheat oven to 400 degrees F., rack in the middle position. 6 slices bacon (regular sliced, not thick sliced) 4 Tablespoons (2 ounces, ½ stick) salted butter, softened 6 slices soft white bread ½ cup grated cheddar cheese 6 large eggs Salt and pepper to taste Cook the 6 slices of bacon in a frying pan over medium heat for 6 minutes or until the bacon is firmed up and the edges are slightly brown, but the strips are still pliable. They won’t be completely cooked, but that’s okay. They will finish cooking in the oven. Place the partially-cooked bacon on a plate lined with paper towels to drain it. Generously coat the inside of 6 muffin cups with half of the softened butter. Butter one side of the bread with the rest of the butter but stop slightly short of the crusts. Lay the bread out on a sheet of wax paper or a bread board butter side up. Hannah’s 1st Note: You will be wasting a bit of butter here, but it’s easier than cutting rounds of bread first and trying to butter them after they’re cut. Using a round cookie cutter that’s three and a half inches (3 and ½ inches) in diameter, cut circles out of each slice of bread.   Hannah’s 2nd Note: If you don’t have a 3.5 inch cookie cutter, you can use the top rim of a standard size drinking glass to do this. Place the bread rounds butter side down inside the muffin pans, pressing them down gently being careful not to tear them as they settle into the bottom of the cup. If one does tear, cut a patch from the buttered bread that is left and place it, buttered side down, over the tear. Curl a piece of bacon around the top of each piece of bread, positioning it between the bread and the muffin tin. This will help to keep the bacon in a ring shape. Sprinkle shredded cheese in the bottom of each muffin cup, dividing the cheese as equally as you can between the 6 muffin cups. Crack an egg into a small measuring cup (I use a half-cup measure) with a spout, making sure to keep the yolk intact. Hannah’s 3rd Note: If you break a yolk, don’t throw the whole egg away. Just slip it in a small covered container which you will refrigerate and use for scrambled eggs the next morning, or for that batch of cookies you’ll make in the next day or two. Pour the egg carefully into the bottom of one of the muffin cups. Repeat this procedure for all the eggs, cracking them one at a time and pouring them into the remaining muffin cups. When every muffin cup has bread, bacon, cheese and egg, season with a little salt and pepper. Bake the filled toast cups for 6 to 10 minutes, depending on how firm you want the yolks. (Naturally, a longer baking time yields a harder yolk.) Run the blade of a knife around the edge of each muffin cup, remove the Bacon, Egg, and Cheddar Cheese Toast Cups, and serve immediately. Hannah’s 4th Note: These are a bit tricky the first time you make them. That’s just “beginner nerves”. Once you’ve made them successfully, they’re really quite easy to do and extremely impressive to serve for a brunch. Yield: 6 servings (or 3 servings if you’re fixing them for Mike and Norman).

STRAWBERRY SHORTBREAD BAR COOKIES Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.   Hannah’s 1st Note: These are really easy and fast to make. Almost everyone loves them, including Baby Bethie, and they’re not even chocolate! 3 cups all purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) ¾ cup powdered (confectioner’s) sugar (don’t sift un- less it’s got big lumps) 1 and ½ cups salted butter, softened (3 sticks, 12 ounces, ¾ pound) 1 can (21 ounces) strawberry pie filling (I used Comstock)*** *** - If you can’t find strawberry pie filling, you can use another berry filling, like raspberry, or blueberry. You can also use pie fillings of larger fruits like peach, apple, or whatever. If you do that, cut the fruit pieces into smaller pieces so that each bar cookie will have some. I just put my apple or peach pie filling in the food processor with the steel blade and zoop it up just short of being pureed. I’m not sure about using lemon pie filling. I haven’t tried that yet. FIRST STEP: Mix the flour and the powdered sugar together in a medium-sized bowl. Cut in the softened butter with a two knives or a pastry cutter until the resulting mixture resembles bread crumbs or coarse corn meal. (You can also do this in a food processor using cold butter cut into chunks that you layer between the powdered sugar and flour mixture and process with the steel blade, using an on-and-off pulsing motion.) Spread HALF of this mixture (approximately 3 cups will be fine) into a greased (or sprayed with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray) 9-inch by 13-inch pan. (That’s a standard size rectangular cake pan.) Bake at 350 degrees F. for 12 to 15 minutes, or until the edges are just beginning to turn golden brown. Remove the pan to a wire rack or a cold burner on the stove, but DON’T TURN OFF THE OVEN! Let the crust cool for 5 minutes. SECOND STEP: Spread the pie filling over the top of the crust you just baked. Sprinkle the crust with the other half of the crust mixture you saved. Try to do this as evenly as possible. Don’t worry about little gaps in the topping. It will spread out and fill in a bit as it bakes. Gently press the top crust down with the flat blade of a metal spatula. Bake the cookie bars at 350 degrees F. for another 30 to 35 minutes, or until the top is lightly golden. Turn off the oven and remove the pan to a wire rack or a cold burner to cool completely. When the bars are completely cool, cover the pan with foil and refrigerate them until you’re ready to cut them. (Chilling them makes them easier to cut.) When you’re ready to serve them, cut the Strawberry Shortbread Bar Cookies into brownie-sized pieces, arrange them on a pretty platter, and if you like, sprinkle the top with extra powdered sugar.

Sky's The Limit" [Intro] Good evening ladies and gentlemen How's everybody doing tonight I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed I like this young man because when he came out He came out with the phrase, he went from ashy to classy I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm round of applause For the Notorious B.I.G The Notorious B.I.G., ladies and gentlemen give it up for him y'all [Verse 1] A nigga never been as broke as me - I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt I'm sewing tigers on my shirts, and alligators You want to see the inside, I see you later Here comes the drama, oh, that's that nigga with the fake, blaow Why you punch me in my face, stay in your place Play your position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket, rob him while his friends watching And hoes clocking, here comes respect His crew's your crew or they might be next Look at they man eye, big man, they never try So we rolled with them, stole with them I mean loyalty, niggas bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, butter crunch 88 Oshkosh and blue and white dunks, pass the blunts [Hook: 112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressing on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have What you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressing on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have What you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Verse 2] I was a shame, my crew was lame I had enough heart for most of them Long as I got stuff from most of them It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fucking bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stacking, dabbled in crack, gun packing Nickname Medina make the seniors tote my Niñas From gym class, to English pass off a global The only nigga with a mobile can't you see like Total Getting larger in waists and tastes Ain't no telling where this felon is heading, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of your melon, clear the space Your brain was a terrible thing to waste 88 on gates, snatch initial name plates Smoking spliffs with niggas, real-life beginner killers Praying God forgive us for being sinners, help us out [Hook] [Verse 3] After realizing, to master enterprising I ain't have to be in school by ten, I then Began to encounter with my counterparts On how to burn the block apart, break it down into sections Drugs by the selections Some use pipes, others use injections Syringe sold separately Frank the Deputy Quick to grab my Smith & Wesson like my dick was missing To protect my position, my corner, my lair While we out here, say the Hustlers Prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my mom's hand Get my daughter this college grant so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when your heart's in it And live the phrase sky's the limit Motherfuckers See you chumps on top [Hook]

Love doesn’t have an expiration date, Katie. There is no cookie cutter for it, and there sure as hell aren’t instructions. It just is. Who says you can’t fall in love with someone who’s already broken your heart? Who says you can’t move on and then fall in love all over again from thousands of miles away via letters and emails? That’s the great thing about love … it finds you. And when it’s true love, it doesn’t go away, and you just know. You don’t have to wonder or guess, because it just … is.

When it comes to womanhood, most of us have been exposed to clichéd advice, shallow caricatures, and cookie-cutter solutions. It is our hope that this resource will shift the discussion to a better focus. We pray that it will • enable you to explore God’s timeless design for womanhood straight from His Word • help you wrestle with how to apply God’s design to your season of life • encourage you to have grace toward women who differ in life circumstance and application • equip you to pass on the message of True Womanhood to the next generation

some reason the French love to laugh at Belgians. Belgian jokes are like Newfie jokes in Canada or Vermont jokes in New England (we can testify that the same cookie-cutter stories circulate freely between languages).

Grammy always said that when a developer tells you that he builds elegant homes, it’s because he almost always throws together half-baked cookie cutter models of what twenty-five-year-old trophy brides deem tasteful. “Always consider it a tremendous service when a person tells you how honest he is,” she also said. “It’s a warning round. When they start talking about how honest they are, run. If you’re honest, you don’t need to talk about it. When you build elegant homes, you most certainly do not need to tout their elegance. If someone makes a point of telling you who he is, rather than showing you with his actions, you can bank

I happen to love carnivals.

This isn't a countertop sex kind of moment, Iris. What kind of moment is it, then? It's a showing you how beautiful you are moment.

This new way of consuming information and storytelling online doesn’t bode well for individuals or companies that create mediocre content and cookie-cutter storytelling. The new mentality says that if it’s not good or important, the group won’t share it. Furthermore, it no longer matters who created the content; if it doesn’t satisfy us, we’re not going to share or filter something up the food chain.

Don’t ever become a slave to the trends. Cookie-cutter is never chic.

I'm head clown among those condemned for what they've inherited - this fool's paradise of drab transgressions, cookie-cutter villains, ballistic incontinence and headshot trivia.

I’m convinced that, unfortunately, the general direction of rule changes for a long time has been to carve out greater space for the individual athlete while curbing the impact of team play. This narrows the opportunities to participate. In general, only “cookie cutter” athletic prodigies get serious looks. In my opinion, tinkering with the game to distort the natural balance between team and individual play is counterproductive.

I marvel at how wildly different each of their stories is. It’s proof that our lives were never meant to be cookie-cutter, culturally constructed carbon copies of some ideal. There is no one way to live, love, raise children, arrange a family, run a school, a community, a nation. The norms were created by somebody, and each of us is somebody. We can make our own normal. We can throw out all the rules and write our own. We can build our lives from the inside out. We can stop asking what the world wants from us and instead ask ourselves what we want for our world. We can stop looking at what’s in front of us long enough to discover what’s inside us. We can remember and unleash the life-changing, relationship-changing, world-changing power of our own imagination. It might take us a lifetime. Luckily, a lifetime is exactly how long we have.

You know, success in anything you do is doing what you love. Going to a job that is different every day is better than going to a cookie cutter job like so many folks have.

the environment. Silly things. Porcelain bells, the kind you get at souvenir shops. Cookie cutters you’ll never use, because who needs a cookie in the shape of a foot?

A clocked minute of static—a long time to sit and watch nothing, I was all for fast-forwarding but Nakota glared me down—then a sip of absolute blackness, recorded blackness, rich and menacing as an X ray of a cancer. Nakota, lips parting to say something but the thought drowned in the flash of an image: something like bloody stalks, caressing the screen like hands behind the glass, so greedily intimate even Nakota gave a tiny backstepping whoop. Then as if a barrier shattered, ferocious fun, whatever provided the images warming to this game: a vast black grin like the Funhole itself become its namesake, black asshole-mouth studded with teeth or bones like broken glass and in that Pandora opening Nakota breathless and me with my mouth hanging wide open, village idiot at freak show, a vertiginous glide forward as upon the screen came things I didn’t want to know about, oh yes I’m quite sophisticated, quite the bent voyeur, I can laugh at stuff that would make you vomit but how would you like to see the ecstatic prance of self-evisceration, a figure carving itself, re-created in a harsh new form from what seemed to be its own hot guts, becoming no figure at all but the absence of one, a cookie-cutter shape and in but not contained by its outline a blackness, a vortex of nothing so final that beside it the Funhole was harmless, do you see what I’m saying, the Funhole was a goddamned carnival ride next to this nonfigure and all at once what I wanted least, least, far less than to be struck blind or any kind of petty death was to see the figure turn (as it did now) in slick almost pornographic slowness and show me, show me what there was to see

Recipe for Bannock Ingredients: 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 tablespoons sugar 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 2 tablespoons butter 1 cup buttermilk 1/2 cup dried currants (optional) Directions: Combine flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Cut butter into flour mixture with pastry cutter. Add buttermilk until dough is soft. Stir in currants. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead for 5 minutes, or until smooth. Form dough into a 7-inch round. Place on a lightly oiled cake pan or cookie sheet. Cut ½-inch deep cross side to side. Score with cross ½-inch deep on the top. Bake in a preheated 375 degrees F (190 degrees C) oven for 40 minutes.

Debbie’s Delicious Christmas Cookies Cookies – Ingredients List #1: 2-1/2 cups flour 1 cup white sugar ¼ tsp. salt 1 tsp. baking soda 2 tsp. cream of tartar *Mix dry ingredients in large bowl   Cookies – Ingredients List #2: 1 cup butter, softened 2 eggs 1 tsp. vanilla *Mix wet ingredients Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees Mix both wet and dry ingredients together. (You can also refrigerate dough so it “firms up.”) Roll cookie dough on floured surface.  Cut with cookie cutters. Place cookies on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 6 – 10 minutes (depending on thickness)  *You can add more flour if the mixture seems “doughy” Frosting ½ cup solid vegetable shortening ½ cup softened butter (not melted) 1 tsp. vanilla 4 cups powdered sugar 2 tbsp. milk food coloring Cream butter & shortening Add vanilla Slowly add sugar Add milk Beat on high until fluffy.  (This recipe will test your mixer.  I recommend using a heavy-duty mixer, but it is not required.  Just keep an eye on the mixer so it doesn’t overheat.) *You can also add a little extra milk, a tablespoon at a time. Separate frosting into bowls.  Add drops of food coloring until color desired is achieved. Frost cooled cookies.  Decorate with sprinkles, etc.

I just mean, even if it was done for marketing, they are remarkable sculptures. It's easy to forget how much time goes into things like designing giant fighting robots for movies. It feels cookie-cutter, but thousands of person-hours go into their creation. We love them because they're beautiful, and they're beautiful because of hard work.

In that moment, I knew the truth about family. There wasn’t one cookie-cutter way to create love bonds. Families came in all shapes, forms, and sizes. Some were tied together by blood, and others by heartbeats. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how you came together; it only mattered that you stayed together. That you looked out for one another and loved in an unconditional way.

Why I was successful In 2014, I was 29 years old. I was selling against companies that had been in the QuickBooks integration business for five years or more. Some competitors had millions of dollars in venture capital. Their websites were the equivalent of a five-star hotel. These competitors had large sales and marketing teams that could easily show the value of their solution. The companies had a team of programmers. I had my pajamas, a corded phone, a cookie-cutter website, and a laptop computer. I signed up about three hundred new accounts because I was the first person to pick up the phone and I spoke English. I could answer questions on what my software can automate. If there was a problem, I called the customer and we did a screenshare. You need to talk to customers on the phone and you cannot email customers to death. Many customers later told me they reached out to competitors and received no response to sales or support inquiries. These customers said they chose my company because I was responsive. Potential customers want to speak to someone in their area who understands their language. You need to connect with them. Many people signed up for Connex because they liked me over the phone. We attract many small business owners. I had similar interests and I owned a business, just like them.

On the eigth day of Christmas … your true friends give to you, 8 cookie cutters 7 golden apples 6 holiday cups 5 angel note cards 4 gift boxes 3 rolls of gift wrap 2 bags of bows and … 1 Pointsettia for all of you.

On the tenth day of Christmas your true friends give to you: Ten dancing Santas Nine Christmas candles Eight cookie cutters Seven golden apples Six holiday cups Five angel gift cards Four gift boxes Three rolls of gift wrap Two bags of bows and A poinsettia for all of you.

On the eleventh day of Christmas your true friends give to you … Eleven hungry mice Ten dancing Santas Nine candles Eight cookie cutters Seven golden apples Six holiday cups Five angel gift cards Four gift boxes Three rolls of gift wrap Two bags of bows and, One poinsettia for all of you.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas Your true friends give to you … Twelve Brass Bells Eleven Christmas Mice Ten Dancing Santas Nine Candles Eight Cookie Cutters Seven Golden Apples Six Holiday Cups Five Angel Note Cards Four Gift Boxes Three Rolls of Gift Wrap Two Bags of Bows And One Poinsettia For All Of You.

When it comes to social media, a lot of companies still don’t get it. They opt to use a “cookie cutter social media” approach instead of treating their accounts with the same respect as they would their corporate lines of credit or anything else that is critical to the business. They treat their social media as though it is something that can be mass produced and processed. This is the wrong approach to social media!

Because New Jersey is the “Garden State,” I connected the word gardening to what was around me: large fields of grass for horse farms broken up by occasional forests, orchards, or corn fields that then abutted abruptly into cookie cutter housing developments and their smaller dollops of grass. That we lived in the smack middle of the state only solidified the association garden = grass

FAVORITE SUGAR COOKIES MAKES 10–30 COOKIES, DEPENDING ON SIZE The following is my favorite sugar cookie recipe. If the dough is processed IMMEDIATELY, the baked cookies taste sensational, just like vanilla shortbread. This recipe is perfect for the impatient baker. The sugar cookies also can be instantly turned into a cookie on a stick, pretty iced cookies you can hang as decoration, or colorful fondant cookies. This is a very multi-talented sugar cookie — imagination's the limit! 1 cup (230 g) butter (room temperature) 1 1/4 cup 2 tablespoon (165 g) powdered sugar 1 egg ½ teaspoon vanilla extract 141 3 3.4 cup 1 tablespoon (475 g) flour 2 teaspoons baking powder ½ teaspoon salt Flour for the work station 1. Preheat the oven to 400 °F (200 °C) on the baking setting and cover a baking sheet with parchment paper. Mix butter and powdered sugar until it is creamy. Whisk the egg together with the vanilla extract in a separate bowl and thoroughly add it into the butter and sugar mixture. 2. Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt together. Gradually add this to the butter and sugar mixture and knead with your hands into a firm dough. If the dough sticks to your fingers, you can still add a little flour. Let the dough rest for 2 minutes in the bowl. 3. Roll out the dough on the floured work station so that it is about ¼ in thick. Form dough into the desired shapes with cookie cutters and place on the baking sheet. *Do you want to turn your sugar cookies into cookie pops? Then from here follow the instructions on page 19. 4. Bake the cookies in the oven for 7–8 minutes. Caution! The cookies should not brown. Let the finished cookies cool down on a wire rack completely intact. You can decorate them the next day. Thus you avoid the fat of the cookie getting into the glaze, absorbing the fondant and becoming discolored.

A good place to raise kids. The truth is he just couldn’t stand it anymore. The incredible freakin’ boredom. Couldn’t stand coming back from busts, the stakeouts, the roofs, the alleys, the chases to what, Hylan Plaza, Pathmark, Toys “R” Us, GameStop. He’d come home from a tour jacked up from speed, adrenaline, fear, anger, sadness, rage, and then go to someone’s cookie-cutter house to play Mexican Train or Monopoly or nickel poker. And they were nice people and he’d feel guilty sitting there sipping their wine coolers and making small talk when what he really wanted was to be back on the street in hot, smelly, noisy, dangerous, fun, interesting, stimulating, infuriating Harlem

Beat granulated sugar and butter in large bowl with electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add egg and vanilla; mix well. Gradually beat in dry ingredients on low speed until well mixed. Refrigerate dough two hours or overnight until firm. Preheat oven to 375°. Roll out dough on lightly floured surface to 1⁄4-inch thickness. Cut into humanoid shapes with gingerbread-person cookie cutters. Place on parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool completely. For the icing, mix all ingredients except food color. Divide white icing into two small

Was it possible to have a hole inside you, cookie-cuttered into the shape of a person you hadn't met yet?

2½ cups all-purpose flour ¾ tsp baking powder 2 sticks butter 1½ tbsp sugar 1 tsp salt ¾ tsp cumin seeds ½ tsp cumin powder (optional) 2 to 2½ tbsp plain whole milk yogurt Sift the flour and baking powder. Cream the butter and sugar. Mix in the salt, cumin seeds, and cumin powder (if you like the flavor of cumin, adding the powder is recommended). Add the sifted flour to the creamed mixture. Knead into a dough, adding the yogurt as you do so. Roll the dough ⅛-inch thick. Cut into round shapes with cookie cutter. Place on a greased cookie tray and bake in a preheated oven at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and leave on a rack to cool. Enjoy the naan khatais with a cup of hot Indian chai.