Fortune Cookie Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Fortune Cookie. Here they are! All 100 of them:

The more this guy talked, the more he sounded like a fortune cookie.
Kelly Creagh (Nevermore (Nevermore, #1))
Josh: Just because you’re not looking for something doesn’t mean you won’t find it. Sean: Well, aren’t you quite the fucking fortune cookie.
Shannon Stacey (Yours to Keep (Kowalski Family, #3))
What did Adam's fortune cookie say?" "Mmm." Olive made a show to look at the strip. "Not much. Just 'Holden Rodrigues, Ph.D., is a loser.'" Malcolm sped up just as Holden flipped her off, making her burst into laughter. "What does it really say?" Adam asked when they were finally alone. Olive handed him the crumpled paper and remained silent as he angled it to read it in the lamplight. She wasn't surprised when she saw a muscle jump in his jaw, or when he slid the fortune into the pocket of his jeans. She knew what it said, after all. You can fall in love: someone will catch you.
Ali Hazelwood (The Love Hypothesis (The Love Hypothesis))
Sometimes, it’s the scary things in life that are the most worthwhile.” I told him. I’m pretty sure I’d read that in a fortune cookie once upon a time. That made it wise, right?
Cora Carmack (Losing It (Losing It, #1))
Sometimes, people change. And sometimes, they meet people who make them want to change.” “And sometimes, people sound like a human fortune cookie.
Ana Huang (Twisted Hate (Twisted, #3))
It is easier to tell a person what life is not, rather than to tell them what it is. A child understands weeds that grow from lack of attention, in a garden. However, it is hard to explain the wild flowers that one gardener calls weeds, and another considers beautiful ground cover.
Shannon L. Alder
What thought or message would you put in a fortune cookie? "Stop reading this. Eat the cookie and live your life.
Veronica Roth
I’m just sorry that she had to be your fortune cookie. Broken so you could learn a lesson you already should’ve known.
Rudy Francisco (Helium (Button Poetry))
A foolish man thinks he knows everything. A wise man knows he doesn't," Finn replied absently, still looking down at the book. "That's such a fortune-cookie answer," I said with a laugh, and even he smirked at me.
Amanda Hocking (Switched (Trylle, #1))
I'm also staring at the fortune cookie. Its got a lot of blood on it and I shrug and say, as jovially as I can, "Oh, you know me.
Bret Easton Ellis (American Psycho)
I just got a fortune cookie that says "Turn off your computer and read a book" which is odd because I'm WRITING a book...on my computer!
Meg Cabot
Cracking his knuckles, Cary dramatically prepared to open his fortune cookie. “Let’s see. Will I be rich? Famous? About to meet Mr. or Ms. Tall, Dark, and Tasty? Traveling to distant lands? What’d you guys get?” “Mine’s lame,” I said. “In the end all things will be known. Duh. I didn’t need a fortune to figure that out.” Gideon opened his and read, “Prosperity will knock on your door soon.” I snorted. Cary shot me a look. “I know, right? You snatched someone else’s cookie, Cross.” “He better not be anywhere near someone else’s cookie,” I said dryly. Reaching over, Gideon plucked half of mine out of my fingers. “Don’t worry, angel. Your cookie is the only one I want.” He popped it in his mouth with a wink. “Gag,” Cary muttered. “Get a room.” He cracked his fortune with a flourish, and then scowled. “What the fuck?” I leaned forward. “What’s it say?” “Confucius say,” Gideon ad-libbed, “man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day.” Cary threw half his cookie at Gideon, who caught it deftly and grinned. “Give me that.” I snatched the fortune out from between Cary’s fingers and read it. Then laughed. “Fuck you, Eva.” “Well?” Gideon prodded. “Pick another cookie.” Gideon smiled. “Pwned by a fortune.” Cary threw the other half of his cookie.
Sylvia Day (Bared to You (Crossfire, #1))
The past is gone and tomorrow is at best a maybe. Live for this moment because it may be all you’ll ever have.” – Choo Co La Tah “What are you? A fortune cookie writer?” – Abigail
Sherrilyn Kenyon (Retribution (Dark-Hunter, #19))
Help someone when they’re in trouble, and they’ll remember you when they’re in trouble again. —FORTUNE COOKIE
Darynda Jones (Seventh Grave and No Body (Charley Davidson, #7))
And did anyone here bring me food? I'm famished." [Gregor's] fingers found a stray fortune cookie from the night before and he pulled it out. "Here," he said. Ripred reacted with exaggerated amazement. "Oh, heavens, is this whole thing for me?" "Look, I didn't even know --" Gregor began. "No, please. Don't apologize." Ripred's tongue darted out and flicked the cookie into his mouth. "Oh, yes, oh, my word," he raved as he chewed and swallowed. "I'm absolutely stuffed!
Suzanne Collins (Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods (Underland Chronicles, #3))
get a job writing fortune cookies instead. I could try to write really American ones. Already, I’ve jotted down a few of them. Objects create happiness. The animals are pleased to be of use. Your cities will shine forever. Death will not touch you.
Jenny Offill (Dept. of Speculation)
Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true.
Zach Helm (Stranger Than Fiction: The Shooting Script)
If someone seems to have changed from one session to another, make sure you haven’t changed instead.” A warning from his mother, once upon a time, delivered as if she’d upended a box of spy-advice fortune cookies and chosen one at random.
Jeff VanderMeer (Authority (Southern Reach #2))
You're not very good at being contemplative," Milo said. "You always sound like some bad caricature of a philosopher, like those fortune cookies with 'Confucius say' or the Nietzsche guy from Mystery Men that's always saying 'when you walk on the ground, the ground walks on you.
Amanda Hocking (Fate (My Blood Approves, #2))
He digs out a fortune cookie fortune from his mouth, as if his mouth has a pocket. It says THE SIMPLEST ANSWER IS TO ACT. He hands it to me. I nod and put the fortune in my own mouth pocket.
A.S. King (Everybody Sees the Ants)
I want us to cool down for a while before we end up on horses' said Scully. 'What?' Hank asked. 'A definition of confusion.' Mulder explained, hands clasped behind his head. 'He jumped up on his horse and rode off in all directions.' He winked. 'Scully likes wise sayings like that. She hoardes fortune cookies you know.
Charles Grant (The X-Files: Goblins)
You can't find happiness outside yourself, Calder." I shook my head. "You sound like a fortune cookie." "It's still true. Everyone's always trying to do it, y'know. They try to get with the right people, hook up with the right guy, join the right club - without ever asking what 'right' is." "And this is somehow supposed to apply to me? I'm not some identity-confused sophomore, Lily. If you haven't been listening, I turn into a thieving, murdering fish.
Anne Greenwood Brown (Lies Beneath (Lies Beneath, #1))
According to the fortune-cookie logic most people live by, the best things in life are free. That's crap. I have a gold-plated robot that scratches the exact part of my back where my hands can't reach, and it certainly wasn't free.
Josh Lieb (I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to Be Your Class President)
He’s human,” I remind her. “He’s not perfect. No one is.” Her lips twitch. “Wise words from Loren Hale. You must have plagiarized a fortune cookie.” I let out a weak laugh, actually smiling at that one. She’s good.
Krista Ritchie (Addicted for Now (Addicted #3))
I am sorry; I cannot help you. I am only a cookie.
Chinese fortune cookie
Could this guy sound a little less like a fortune cookie on acid?
Huntley Fitzpatrick (The Boy Most Likely To)
Thought for the day: Twitter...140 character limit...must be a great tool for fortune cookie writers...
E.A. Bucchianeri
You know,” he said, “at some point you’re going to realize that being a smart-ass isn’t as much about being smart as it is about being an ass.” “That’s good,” I said. “Did you read that in a fortune cookie?
Garth Stein (A Sudden Light)
Fortune cookies are an American invention, and we gave it to them. The Chinese were probably like, “Uh, we don’t want it.” And we were like, “It’s now part of your ethnic identity.
Jim Gaffigan (Food: A Love Story)
Of fortune cookies and tarot cards they have no need: my wheelchair, burn scars, and gnarled hands apparently tell them all they need to know. My future is written on my body.
Alison Kafer (Feminist, Queer, Crip)
He who laughs at himself never runs out of things to laugh at.’ ” Holden popped a bit of fortune cookie in his mouth, blinking at the message inside. “Is that shade?” He looked around, indignant. “Did this fortune cookie just throw shade at me?
Ali Hazelwood (The Love Hypothesis (The Love Hypothesis))
I read the newspaper a little at a time. I cut the paper up into tiny slivers, each about the size of a fortune cookie slogan, and then I mix all the scraps together and then read them at random one by one. That's how I stay current with duck farm trends.
Jarod Kintz (Ducks are the stars of the karaoke bird world (A BearPaw Duck And Meme Farm Production))
Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor. Fortune favors the brave. Big risks lead to big rewards.” “Do you want to inform me why you suddenly turned into a talking fortune cookie?
Leisa Rayven (Mister Romance (Masters of Love, #1))
I tucked this thought inside me like a fortune into a cookie.
Meg Howrey (The Cranes Dance)
Fate will come looking for you. Don't bother hiding
Lauren Bjorkman (Miss Fortune Cookie)
Like special fungus, your love will grow in strange places
Lauren Bjorkman (Miss Fortune Cookie)
Patience, young grasshopper,” he teased. “Good things come to those who wait.” “How very wise of you,” I teased back. Russ shrugged. “I eat a lot of fortune cookies.
Kelly Oram (Ungifted (Supernaturals, #2))
What thought or message would you put into a fortune cookie? Get up, stop reading this and live your life
Ranna
After all, you don’t know how strong something is until you actually test it.” She winked. “I read that in a fortune cookie once.” “Fortune cookie?
Nicholas Sparks (The Longest Ride)
The purpose of fortune cookies became startlingly clear to me then: this is Western wisdom recycled for an American audience. The Chinese are just the middlemen.
Jennifer 8. Lee (The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food)
She takes the fortune cookies from the bottom of the bag and throws them into a glass bowl she keeps in the closet. She has no desire to know what her future might hold.
Alice Hoffman (Faithful)
And if all else fails, I try to obey this message I got in a Chinese fortune cookie (which I have since taped to my laptop): “Avoid compulsively making things worse.
Timothy Ferriss (Tribe Of Mentors: Short Life Advice from the Best in the World)
Hey," Holden asked from the passenger window. "What did Adam's fortune cookie say?" [...] You can fall in love: someone will catch you.
Ali Hazelwood
mind. I pick up my fortune cookie and break it open to read my fortune. How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes? Fortune
Carian Cole (Storm (Ashes & Embers, #1))
All this for two bad lines he could’ve gotten out of a fortune cookie?
Zoe Forward (Hooked On A Witch (Keepers Of The Veil, #4))
As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true.
Zach Helm (Stranger Than Fiction: The Shooting Script)
...but I could see how hard it would be for him to imagine the rest of his life, and where it would lead him...It would be like having a job in a fortune cookie factory, standing all day on an assembly line while optimism passed through your hands on flimsy strips of paper-"You will inherit a million dollars," "You will go on an exotic vacation"-but never moving, standing in one place while the damp batter of the fortune cookies slid by, all your possible futures settling into that clamminess as it passed.
Laura Kasischke (White Bird in a Blizzard)
In 1918, a Chinese immigrant working in a Los Angeles noodle factory invented the fortune cookie. He did so believing that a cookie with a positive message in it would raise the spirits of the city’s poor.
James Frey (Bright Shiny Morning)
People do not buy fortune cookies because they taste better than every other cookie on the shelf. They buy them for the delight they deliver at the end of a meal. Marketers spend most of their time selling the cookie, when what they should be doing is finding a way to create a better fortune. Of course your job is to bake a good cookie, the very best that you can, but you must also spend time figuring out how to tell a great story.
William Mougayar (The Business Blockchain: Promise, Practice, and Application of the Next Internet Technology)
Your best idea will come to you in the shower this week. Act on it.
Chinese fortune cookie
Stop searching forever happiness is just next to you
Chinese fortune cookie
To Live Well is the Best Revenge"...
Was such a long time ago when I heard this came out of a fortune cookie I think
vindaloo.
Bryce Courtenay (Fortune Cookie)
I crack open my cookie and slip the fortune out of it. "If you only shine light on your flaws, all your perfects will dim.
Colleen Hoover
chances given, chances not given, chances taken, chances lost. How are you supposed to know which to give, which not?
Cathy Cassidy (Fortune Cookie (The Chocolate Box Girls, #6))
The thoughts just before the event are like the fortune in the cookie. The fortune's as random as the thought.
Adam Ross (Mr. Peanut)
Listen to life, and you will hear the voice of life crying, Be!
Chinese fortune cookie
Am I really standing here, conversing with a bloody unicorn?" Tiffy was certain her mind had finally left the building.
T.J. Loveless (Lucky Number Six (The Fortune Cookies Chronicles #1))
Spoken like a fortune cookie from Frodo’s kitchen.
Tracey Ward (Writing on the Wall (Survival, #1))
Okay, I admit it: sometimes I sound like a fortune cookie
Stanley Victor Paskavich (Stantasyland: Quips Quotes and Quandaries)
Jerry’s fortune cookie said: “Tension, apprehension and dissension have begun.
Norman Spinrad (The Star-Spangled Future: Fourteen Stories in Search of the Future)
Yes,” said Lila under her breath. “I am aware I married a fortune cookie.” “In a cape,” said Dex. “Well done.
Kate Racculia (Tuesday Mooney Talks To Ghosts)
We ordered Chinese takeout, and my fortune cookie said, “Don’t stop now.
Caitlín R. Kiernan (The Drowning Girl)
Many a false step was made by standing still.” –Fortune cookie
Timothy Ferriss (Tribe Of Mentors: Short Life Advice from the Best in the World)
The work will teach you how to do it. —Anonymous (quoted in a fortune cookie)
Frank Wilczek (Fundamentals: Ten Keys to Reality)
If we worry about the little things all the time, we run the risk of missing the bigger things." "Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a fortune cookie?" Wallace muttered.
T.J. Klune (Under the Whispering Door)
Every beginning is already the start of the end,” I reply. “I sound like a fortune cookie.
Jodi Picoult (The Book of Two Ways)
However, he couldn’t stand the fortune cookies. His always read, “The fortune you seek is no fortune.” Or “Love your neighbor, it keeps the community together.” Or “Keep the dreams alive. Don’t wake up
Carol Vorvain (A Fool in Istanbul: Adventures of a self denying workaholic)
Hoping your problems will go away doesn’t actually make them go away.” “You sound like a cheesy fortune cookie.” Emma continued laughing. “Well, handle your shit doesn’t have as cute of a ring to it, does it?
Anne Harper (Fake It Till You Make It)
Of all the thoughts we think, it's only those that actually manifest themselves that seem significant. But the thoughts just before the event are like the fortune in the cookie. The fortune's as random as the thought." - Nathan Harold
Adam Ross (Mr. Peanut)
I said to her "I won't be happy if I get in and you don't," and Mara gave a look and said "Yes you will.". I realized that she was right and that needing people and caring about them were two very different things. I tucked this thought inside me like a fortune into a cookie. It was a secret and it made me feel powerful, even though I didn't understand why.
Meg Howrey
Tomorrow is the start of Ramadan, a month of daily fasting, broken by an iftar, a special meal after sunset and a bite before sunrise. Han has told her that the idea behind the fast of Ramadan is to remind everyone of the poor and less fortunate, a time of charity, compassion, abstinence, and forgiveness. And even though Um-Nadia claims to have no religion and many of their customers are Christians, they all like to eat the traditional foods prepared throughout the Middle East to celebrate the nightly fast-breaking during Ramadan. There are dishes like sweet qatayif crepes and cookies and creamy drinks and thick apricot nectar.
Diana Abu-Jaber (Crescent)
In Los Angeles, moments were fortune cookies ready to be cracked open, and in them you might find a movie star, or a successful audition, or a chance encounter with a powerful person who, with a snap of his fingers, would change your life, like a wizard.
Susan Orlean (The Library Book)
As Harold took a bite of Bavarian Sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be okay. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy...there are Bavarian Sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin...or a kind and loving gesture...or a subtle encouragement...or a loving embrace...or an offer of comfort.... And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties which we assume only accessorize our days, are in fact here for a much nobler and larger cause. They are here to save our lives.
Zach Helm (Stranger Than Fiction: The Shooting Script)
Food is an intimate language that everyone understands, everyone shares. It is the primary ambassador of first contact between cultures, one that transcends spoken language. Food crosses cultural barriers. It bridges oceans. Becoming competent in a foreign language takes a lot of time, and learning a culture’s history and literature requires a great deal of effort. But everyone can immediately have an opinion on food.
Jennifer 8. Lee (The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food)
5. When Begging Ends I love the idea of Divine Source. It reminds us that everything, the fulfillment of every need, always emanates from the One. So if you learn how to keep your vibration high and attuned to That, whatever is needed to sustain you can always occur, often in surprising and delightful ways. Your Source is never a particular person, place, or thing, but God Herself. You never have to beg. Furthermore, Divine Source says that whatever resonates with you will always find you. That which does not, will fall away. It’s that simple. When Outrageous Openness first came out, I experienced this as I took the book around—some stores were simply not drawn to it. But knowing about Divine Source and resonance, I didn’t care. I remember taking it to a spiritual bookstore in downtown San Francisco. The desultory manager sort of half-growled, “Oh, we have a long, long wait here. You can leave a copy for our ‘pile’ in the back room. Then you could call a ton and plead with us. If you get lucky, maybe one day we’ll stock it. Just keep hoping.” “Oh, my God, no!” I shuddered. “Why would I keep twisting your arm? It’ll go easily to the places that are right. You never have to convince someone. The people who are right will just know.” He looked stunned when I thanked him, smiling, and left. And sure enough, other store clerks were so excited, even from the cover alone. They nearly ripped the book out of my hands as I walked in. When I brought it to the main bookstore in San Francisco’s Castro district, I noticed the manager striding toward me was wearing a baseball cap with an image of the goddess Lakshmi. “Great sign,” I mused. He held the book for a second without even cracking it open, then showed the cover to a coworker, yelling, “Hey, let’s give this baby a coming-out party!” So a few weeks later, they did. Sake, fortune cookies, and all. Because you see, what’s meant for you will always, always find you. You never have to be bothered by the people who aren’t meant to understand. And anyway, sometimes years later, they are ready . . . and they do. Change me Divine Beloved into One who knows that You alone are my Source. Let me trust that You fling open every door at the right time. Free me from the illusion of rejection, competition, and scarcity. Fill me with confidence and faith, knowing I never have to beg, just gratefully receive.
Tosha Silver (Change Me Prayers: The Hidden Power of Spiritual Surrender)
The more one knows the less one believes.
Chinese fortune cookie
Everybody, even those that don’t like Chinese food, knew that you had to eat the cookie for the fortune to come true. And so he did.
Justin Swapp (The Magic Shop (Shadow Magic #1))
We must overcome difficulties rather than being overcome by difficulties.
fortune cookie
Chinese have a bigger sense of self-sacrifice. Americans are about self-enjoyment, not self-sacrifice,” he’d
Jennifer 8. Lee (The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food)
Steve Jobs didn’t give us a 32MB music player. He gave us 1,000 songs in our pocket.
Bernadette Jiwa (The Fortune Cookie Principle: The 20 Keys to a Great Brand Story and Why Your Business Needs One)
It could be better, but it's good enough.
Chinese fortune cookie
The cookies were stale and the fortunes discouraging.
Colson Whitehead (Harlem Shuffle (Ray Carney, #1))
The Supreme Court of the United States has descended from the disciplined legal reasoning of John Marshall and Joseph Story to the mystical aphorisms of the fortune cookie. [Referring to pronouncement by Justice Anthony Kennedy in Obergefell v. Hodges: "The Constitution promises liberty to all within its reach, a liberty that includes certain specific rights that allow persons, within a lawful realm, to define and express their identity."]
Antonin Scalia
The stairs down to the scene were so narrow that we had to wait for a herd of forensics types to come up before we could go down. There’s no such thing as a full-service forensics team. It’s very expensive, so you order bits of it up from the Home Office like a Chinese takeout. Judging by the number of noddy suits filing past us Stephanopoulis had gone for the super-deluxe meal for six with extra egg fried rice. I was, I guessed, the fortune cookie.
Ben Aaronovitch (Moon Over Soho (Rivers of London #2))
you were last seen walking through a field of pianos. no. a museum of mouths. in the kitchen of a bustling restaurant, cracking eggs and releasing doves. no. eating glow worms and waltzing past my bedroom. last seen riding the subway, literally, straddling its metal back, clutching electrical cables as reins. you were wearing a dress made out of envelopes and stamps, this was how you travelled. i was the mannequin in the storefront window you could have sworn moved. the library card in the book you were reading until that dog trotted up and licked your face. the cookie with two fortunes. the one jamming herself through the paper shredder, afraid to talk to you. the beggar, hat outstretched bumming for more minutes. the phone number on the bathroom stall with no agenda other than a good time. the good time is a picnic on water, or a movie theatre that only plays your childhood home videos and no one hushes when you talk through them. when they play my videos i throw milk duds at the screen during the scenes i watch myself letting you go – lost to the other side of an elevator – your face switching to someone else’s with the swish of a geisha’s fan. my father could have been a travelling salesman. i could have been born on any doorstep. there are 2,469,501 cities in this world, and a lot of doorsteps. meet me on the boardwalk. i’ll be sure to wear my eyes. do not forget your face. i could never.
Megan Falley
I pushed my food around on my plate a little before tossing down my chopsticks. I’d lost my appetite. Which was a shame, because I loved Chinese food. I reached for the fortune cookies in the middle of the table and cracked one open. Tell me what to do, fortune cookie. I unrolled the little slip of paper inside: Ask the right question. Hmm. Adding “in bed” didn’t make it much funnier, so it was kind of a bummer of a fortune as far as I was concerned, but at the same time it had a point. 
Jen DeLuca (Well Met (Well Met, #1))
If there is something intangible about mental illness generally, depression is all the harder to define because it tends to creep in rather than announce itself, manifesting itself as an absence - of appetite, energy, sociability - rather than as a presence. There is little you can point to: no obscene rantings, no sudden flips into unrecognizable, hyper-energize behavior, no magical belief systems involving lottery numbers or fortune cookies. It seems to me that we are suspicious of depression’s claim to legitimacy in party because it doesn’t look crazy.
Daphne Merkine
She knew from personal experience how hard loving was, how selfish and how easily sundered. Withholding sex or relying on it, ignoring children or devouring them, rerouting true feelings or locking them out. Youth being the excuse for that fortune-cookie love—until it wasn’t, until it became pure adult stupidity.
Toni Morrison (God Help the Child)
I suspect that if the practice could be denuded of all the spiritual preening and straight-out-of-a-fortune-cookie lingo such as “sacred spaces,” “divine mother,” and “holding your emotions with love and tenderness,” it would be attractive to many more millions of smart, skeptical, and ambitious people who would never otherwise go near it.
Dan Harris (10% Happier)
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.
Jonathan Lethem
But mostly, finally, ultimately, I'm here for the weather. As a result of the weather, ours is a landscape in a minor key, a sketchy panorama where objects, both organic and inorganic, lack well-defined edges and tent to melt together, creating a perpetual blurred effect, as if God, after creating Northwestern Washington, had second thoughts and tried unsuccessfully to erase it. Living here is not unlike living inside a classical Chinese painting before the intense wisps of mineral pigment had dried upon the silk - although, depending on the bite in the wind, they're times when it's more akin to being trapped in a bad Chinese restaurant; a dubious joint where gruff waiters slam chopsticks against the horizon, where service is haphazard, noodles soggy, wallpaper a tad too green, and considerable amounts of tea are spilt; but in each and every fortune cookie there's a line of poetry you can never forget. Invariably, the poems comment on the weather. In the deepest, darkest heart of winter, when the sky resembles bad banana baby food for months on end, and the witch measles that meteorologists call "drizzle" are a chronic gray rash on the skin of the land, folks all around me sink into a dismal funk. Many are depressed, a few actually suicidal. But I, I grow happier with each fresh storm, each thickening of the crinkly stratocumulus. "What's so hot about the sun?" I ask. Sunbeams are a lot like tourists: intruding where they don't belong, promoting noise and forced activity, faking a shallow cheerfulness, dumb little cameras slung around their necks. Raindrops, on the other hand, introverted, feral, buddhistically cool, behave as if they were locals. Which, of course, they are.
Tom Robbins (Wild Ducks Flying Backward)
The supernatural, and all it represents, is profoundly abnormal, and therefore unreal. Few would argue with these conclusions. Fine. Now the highest aim of the realistic horror writer is to prove, in realistic terms, that the unreal is real. The question is: “Can this be done?” The answer is: “Of course not.” One would look silly attempting such a thing. Consequently, the realistic horror writer, wielding the hollow proofs and premises of his art, must settle for merely seeming to smooth out the ultimate paradox. In order to achieve this effect, the supernatural realist must really know the normal world, and deeply take for granted its reality. (It helps if he himself is normal and real.) Only then can the unreal, the abnormal, the supernatural be smuggled in as a plain brown package marked Hope, Love, or Fortune Cookies, and postmarked: the Edge of the Unknown.
Thomas Ligotti (Songs of a Dead Dreamer)
What good were fate and fortune anyway? If there was some sort of plan she was supposed to follow, it was unreadable to her and impossible to stick to. She was tired of fate, which was probably just a made-up concept invented by humans to feel like something or someone was guiding them anyway. God, spirits, cookies, whatever. She was so sick of buying into the idea that there was actually meaning behind any of this. It was just her, blind and alone, making a mess of her life on her own, thank you very much.
Andrea Lochen
Finally, some people tell me that they avoid science fiction because it’s depressing. This is quite understandable if they happened to hit a streak of post-holocaust cautionary tales or a bunch of trendies trying to outwhine each other, or overdosed on sleaze-metal-punk-virtual-noir Capitalist Realism. But the accusation often, I think, reflects some timidity or gloom in the reader’s own mind: a distrust of change, a distrust of the imagination. A lot of people really do get scared and depressed if they have to think about anything they’re not perfectly familiar with; they’re afraid of losing control. If it isn’t about things they know all about already they won’t read it, if it’s a different color they hate it, if it isn’t McDonald’s they won’t eat at it. They don’t want to know that the world existed before they were, is bigger than they are, and will go on without them. They do not like history. They do not like science fiction. May they eat at McDonald’s and be happy in Heaven." Pro: "But what I like in and about science fiction includes these particular virtues: vitality, largeness, and exactness of imagination; playfulness, variety, and strength of metaphor; freedom from conventional literary expectations and mannerism; moral seriousness; wit; pizzazz; and beauty. Let me ride a moment on that last word. The beauty of a story may be intellectual, like the beauty of a mathematical proof or a crystalline structure; it may be aesthetic, the beauty of a well-made work; it may be human, emotional, moral; it is likely to be all three. Yet science fiction critics and reviewers still often treat the story as if it were a mere exposition of ideas, as if the intellectual “message” were all. This reductionism does a serious disservice to the sophisticated and powerful techniques and experiments of much contemporary science fiction. The writers are using language as postmodernists; the critics are decades behind, not even discussing the language, deaf to the implications of sounds, rhythms, recurrences, patterns—as if text were a mere vehicle for ideas, a kind of gelatin coating for the medicine. This is naive. And it totally misses what I love best in the best science fiction, its beauty." "I am certainly not going to talk about the beauty of my own stories. How about if I leave that to the critics and reviewers, and I talk about the ideas? Not the messages, though. There are no messages in these stories. They are not fortune cookies. They are stories.
Ursula K. Le Guin (A Fisherman of the Inland Sea)
Like what? What else have you found in a book?" "Well..." he looked around, like the walls might have ears and reopened the cigar box, faced it towards him so I couldn't see the contents. "Things like this." He showed me a pressed blue flower as big as my fist, it's stamens flattened in all directions like a firework display. A cookie fortune that read simply 'woe betide you'. A neatly clipped page of personal ads dated September 1, 1970 from a paper called the East Village Chronicler. "Funny stuff right?" It was. I liked it. The thought that you could find harmless, interesting things tucked inside books. A reminder that the world contained mysteries.
Melissa Albert (The Night Country (The Hazel Wood, #2))
So now what do I do? Do I just approach and start slamming my palms on the window, demanding answers? That seemed somewhat logical. It also seemed kind of stupid. Do I sit here and wait? For how long? And what if the car drives off? Then what? I was still hunched behind the bush, trying to decide what to do, when the decision was made for me. The front passenger door opened and the bald guy stepped out. He still wore the dark suit, and despite the hour, he even had the sunglasses on. For a moment the man stood perfectly still, his back to the bush. Then he slowly turned his head and said, “Mickey.” Gulp. I had no idea how he had seen me, but it didn’t matter now. I stood up. He stared at me from behind those sunglasses, and in spite of the heat, I swear I felt a chill. “You have questions,” the bald man said to me. He spoke with one of those exaggerated British accents that almost sound phony. Like he’d gone to some fancy prep school and wanted to make sure you knew it. “But you’re not yet ready for the answers.” “What does that mean?” “It means,” he said, still with that accent, “just what it sounds like.” I frowned. “It sounds like something you’d read on a bad fortune cookie.” There was the hint of a smile on the bald man’s face. “Don’t tell anyone about us.” “Like who?” “Like anyone. Like your uncle.” “Myron? What would I tell him anyway? I don’t know anything. Who exactly are you? Or, as you put it, us?” “You’ll know,” he said, “when the time is right.” “And when will that be?” The man slid back into the car. He never seemed to hurry, but every moment was almost supernaturally fast and fluid. “Wait!” I shouted. I moved quickly, trying to reach the car door before it closed. “What were you doing in that house? Who are you?” But it was too late. He slammed the door shut. The car started up. Now, as I semi-planned earlier, I slapped the tinted windows with my palm. “Stop!” The
Harlan Coben (Shelter (Micky Bolitar, #1))
The page begins with the person’s picture. A photo if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim’s cheek. My father’s laugh. Peeta’s father with the cookies. The color of Finnick’s eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie’s newborn son. We learn to keep busy again. Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out, and then raises geese until the next train arrives. Fortunately, the geese can take pretty good care of themselves. We’re not alone. A few hundred others return because, whatever has happened, this is our home. With the mines closed, they plow the ashes into the earth and plant food. Machines from the Capitol break ground for a new factory where we will make medicines. Although no one seeds it, the Meadow turns green again. Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.
Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games: Four Book Collection (The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes))
Madame Valenska sat down in one of the chairs. “Whose fortune shall I tell first?” she asked the girls. Nancy stepped forward. “Mine. I mean . . . maybe you can tell me about something I lost.” Madame invited Nancy to sit in the chair facing her. She waved her hands in front of Nancy’s face. “I can see your name begins with a P. Is it . . . Patty?” Nancy heard Jessie begin to laugh. “It’s Nancy,” Nancy said. “Nancy, Patty—close enough,” Madame said with a shrug. She took Nancy’s hand and traced Nancy’s palm with her index finger. “That tickles!” Nancy giggled. “I can see that what you lost is very valuable,” Madame Valenska said. “Can you also see where they are?” Nancy asked. Madame Valenska’s eyes twinkled. She leaned back in her chair. “All I will say is this: Be aware. The clues are there. Be wise. And use your eyes.” Nancy wrinkled her nose. “That sounds more like a riddle than a fortune.” “It is a riddle,” Madame said. “But it also tells your fortune.” “Thanks,” Nancy said. But she felt disappointed. “I’ve gotten better fortunes in cookies,” Jessie whispered as they headed out of the tent.
Carolyn Keene (Dare at the Fair (Nancy Drew Notebooks Book 25))
Dr. Hobson (with Dr. Robert McCarley) made history by proposing the first serious challenge to Freud’s theory of dreams, called the “activation synthesis theory.” In 1977, they proposed the idea that dreams originate from random neural firings in the brain stem, which travel up to the cortex, which then tries to make sense of these random signals. The key to dreams lies in nodes found in the brain stem, the oldest part of the brain, which squirts out special chemicals, called adrenergics, that keep us alert. As we go to sleep, the brain stem activates another system, the cholinergic, which emits chemicals that put us in a dream state. As we dream, cholinergic neurons in the brain stem begin to fire, setting off erratic pulses of electrical energy called PGO (pontine-geniculate-occipital) waves. These waves travel up the brain stem into the visual cortex, stimulating it to create dreams. Cells in the visual cortex begin to resonate hundreds of times per second in an irregular fashion, which is perhaps responsible for the sometimes incoherent nature of dreams. This system also emits chemicals that decouple parts of the brain involved with reason and logic. The lack of checks coming from the prefrontal and orbitofrontal cortices, along with the brain becoming extremely sensitive to stray thoughts, may account for the bizarre, erratic nature of dreams. Studies have shown that it is possible to enter the cholinergic state without sleep. Dr. Edgar Garcia-Rill of the University of Arkansas claims that meditation, worrying, or being placed in an isolation tank can induce this cholinergic state. Pilots and drivers facing the monotony of a blank windshield for many hours may also enter this state. In his research, he has found that schizophrenics have an unusually large number of cholinergic neurons in their brain stem, which may explain some of their hallucinations. To make his studies more efficient, Dr. Allan Hobson had his subjects put on a special nightcap that can automatically record data during a dream. One sensor connected to the nightcap registers the movements of a person’s head (because head movements usually occur when dreams end). Another sensor measures movements of the eyelids (because REM sleep causes eyelids to move). When his subjects wake up, they immediately record what they dreamed about, and the information from the nightcap is fed into a computer. In this way, Dr. Hobson has accumulated a vast amount of information about dreams. So what is the meaning of dreams? I asked him. He dismisses what he calls the “mystique of fortune-cookie dream interpretation.” He does not see any hidden message from the cosmos in dreams. Instead, he believes that after the PGO waves surge from the brain stem into the cortical areas, the cortex is trying to make sense of these erratic signals and winds up creating a narrative out of them: a dream.
Michio Kaku (The Future of the Mind: The Scientific Quest to Understand, Enhance, and Empower the Mind)