Inspirational Pie Quotes

Do you want me to call you Celery Stick instead of Cupcake or Honey-Pie? It just doesn’t inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings.

If you get stuck, get away from your desk. Take a walk, take a bath, go to sleep, make a pie, draw, listen to ­music, meditate, exercise; whatever you do, don't just stick there scowling at the problem. But don't make telephone calls or go to a party; if you do, other people's words will pour in where your lost words should be. Open a gap for them, create a space. Be patient.

Never say 'I can't.' 'I can't' is a limit, and life is about breaking through limits. Say 'I will' instead.

Pies pa' que los quiero, si tengo alas pa' volar

Sydney: "You can be Jet if you want, but we are not posing as a couple again" Adrian: "Are you sure? Because I've got a lot more terms of endearment to use. Honey pie. Sugarplum. Bread pudding." Sydney: "Why are they all high-calorie foods? And bread pudding isn't really that romantic." Adrian: "Do you want me to call you celery stick instead? It just doesn't inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings." - The Indigo Spell

People who are too optimistic seem annoying. This is an unfortunate misinterpretation of what an optimist really is. An optimist is neither naive, nor blind to the facts, nor in denial of grim reality. An optimist believes in the optimal usage of all options available, no matter how limited. As such, an optimist always sees the big picture. How else to keep track of all that’s out there? An optimist is simply a proactive realist. An idealist focuses only on the best aspects of all things (sometimes in detriment to reality); an optimist strives to find an effective solution. A pessimist sees limited or no choices in dark times; an optimist makes choices. When bobbing for apples, an idealist endlessly reaches for the best apple, a pessimist settles for the first one within reach, while an optimist drains the barrel, fishes out all the apples and makes pie. Annoying? Yes. But, oh-so tasty!

I visualized myself pulling on my mental thinking cap, jamming it down around my ears as I had taught myself to do. It was a tall, conical wizard's model, covered with chemical equations and formulae: a cornucopia of ideas.

Some people when they see cheese, chocolate or cake they don't think of calories.

Well your mom was right, in a way. What do you mean? He DID fall, right? So he wasn’t safe on the stool. Thanks, Annette. Thanks a lot. That’s exactly what I needed to hear right now. You’re a very inspiring person, you know that?

It's important to be grateful for the gifts we have

If I have been given any gift in this life, it’s my ability to live simultaneously in the rational world and the world of imagination.

You're not a better person if you eat carrots, and you're not a fuckup if you eat pie.

Con los pies ligeros nos adentramos en la noche para robarle horas al propio tiempo y magia a la mismísima luna.

You're not a priority if you're an option, you are a percentage. A percentage of that other person's time and effort. The size of the pie never changes, the slices do.

En aquel momento pensé que sería la noche más importante de nuestra vida. Tal vez lo fue. Épica porque pusimos un pie en el cielo gracias a nuestros labios. Épica porque sin saberlo también lo hicimos en el infierno. La hora de que el chico que vivía en las sonrisas ajenas brillase como una estrella.

Prefiero estar bajo la supervisión de Dios, y ser moldeada aunque duela; que estar bajo el pie del enemigo y sentir que no valgo nada

And then I decided to be pro me. Be pro you to the end. No more cutting up myself and serving up myself like pieces of a pie for everyone's tasteless palates. And that doesn't mean you don't know how to say sorry; because being pro you means being pro growth and pro improvement. When I'm wrong, I know I'm wrong and I say that I'm wrong. And that's how I know I'm right!

No hay hada que te haga sentir más sola que pasar el resto de tu vida con alguien con quien no se pueda hablar, o peor, con alguien con quien no se pueda estar en silencio.

No puedes hablar de amor hasta que las cosas vayan mal y consigas superarlas. El amor no son flores y violines. Y tampoco lo es el buen sexo. El amor es lealtad. Es resistir en la batalla, luchar hombro con hombro. La nieve golpeándonos la cara. Los pies envueltos en harapos. La nariz congelada...

We can't all be bakers or chefs. Many of us have modest ambitions. But we can all buy a piece of the pie.

El pasado latiéndonos en algún rincón, moviéndonos los pies. El futuro limpio, bailando.

My inspiration for writing music is like Don McLean did when he did "American Pie" or "Vincent". Lorraine Hansberry with "A Raisin in the Sun". Like Shakespeare when he does his thing, like deep stories, raw human needs. I'm trying to think of a good analogy. It's like, you've got the Vietnam War, and because you had reporters showing us pictures of the war at home, that's what made the war end, or that shit would have lasted longer. If no one knew what was going on we would have thought they were just dying valiantly in some beautiful way. But because we saw the horror, that's what made us stop the war. So I thought, that's what I'm going to do as an artist, as a rapper. I'm gonna show the most graphic details of what I see in my community and hopefully they'll stop it quick. I've seen all of that-- the crack babies, what we had to go through, losing everything, being poor, and getting beat down. All of that. Being the person I am, I said no no no no. I'm changing this.

The Lord listens in all those places. They're just different slices of the same pie.

Love is meant to be shared, and happy is the woman who'd willing to risk all for that.

That's the value of the artist... Even when they aren't aware, they're dreaming our dreams for us.

Good Friends are like sunshine. A day is gloomy without them.

Humble pie tastes horrible but is great for the digestive system.

I don't think people grasp the real me when they see me on television. I've got the wonderful family, the big house, the flash car. I run several of the world's best restaurants. I'm running round, cursing and swearing, telling people what to do. They probably think: that flash bastard. But my life, like most people's, is about hard work. It's about success. Beyond that, though, something else is at play. I'm as driven as any man you'll ever meet. When I think about myself, I still see a little boy who is desperate to escape, and keen to please. I just keep going, moving as far away as possible from where I began. Work is who I am, who I want to be. I sometimes think that if I were to stop working, I'd stop existing.

En somme, si on voulait être cohérent, il faudrait soit lever le pied sur l'éducation des filles, soit intégrer à leur formation un sérieux entraînement à la guérilla contre le patriarcat, tout en s'employant activement à faire en sorte que cette situation change.

Nothing beats a glass bottle of Coke and a trusty Moon Pie under the heat of the Alabama sun.

Staying in the past does not help, my friend. Everything passes you by while you’re trying to relive that one little slice of golden apple that you had.

On the path to Conquer the throne, some of your pawns must die... If your eyes aim the big kill, you must learn to eat humble pie.

Las razas desaparecen, los pueblos se levantan y se borran, los imperios se suceden y la gloria huye como una sombra. Pero seguid alzando vuestras murallas blancas sobre la ribera al pie de las montañas rojas...

Leer un buen libro es casi como estar en la luna. Durante esos instantes, mientras te sumerges entre las páginas, dejas de tener los pies en la tierra, viajas lejos, a otros lugares, a otros mundos, a otras vidas...

When life gives you lemon, don’t just make lemonade…make lemon meringue pie…make lemon tart…make lemon chiffon cake…make lemon liqueur…make lemon vinaigrette…make lemon pickle…Then set up shop and make your millions.

Yo no sería como él, yo no me tiraría al vicio y sería la vergüenza del pueblo. Yo trabajaría más fuerte, hasta que mis manos sangraran o mis pies no pudieran sostenerme más para enorgullecer la memoria de mi familia.

I see, and sing by my own eyes inspired. O let me be thy Choir and make a moan Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged Censer teeming; Thy Shrine, thy Grove, thy Oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouthe'd Prophet dreaming! Yes, I will be thy Priest and build a fane In some untrodden region of my Mind, Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain Instead of pies shall murmer in the wind

Estoy convencida de que para tener experiencias místicas no es necesario vivir como un ermita en la montaña ni estar sentado a los pies de un gurú de la India. Cada ser tiene un cuadrante físico, emocional, intelectual y espiritual

THE RIGHT AND WRONG PICTURE OF A DREAM I’ve studied successful people for almost forty years. I’ve known hundreds of high-profile people who achieved big dreams. And I’ve achieved a few dreams of my own. What I’ve discovered is that a lot of people have misconceptions about dreams. Take a look at many of the things that people pursue and call dreams in their lives: Daydreams—Distractions from Current Work Pie-in-the-Sky Dreams—Wild Ideas with No Strategy or Basis in Reality Bad Dreams—Worries that Breed Fear and Paralysis Idealistic Dreams—The Way the World Would Be If You Were in Charge Vicarious Dreams—Dreams Lived Through Others Romantic Dreams—Belief that Some Person Will Make You Happy Career Dreams—Belief that Career Success Will Make You Happy Destination Dreams—Belief that a Position, Title, or Award Will Make You Happy Material Dreams—Belief that Wealth or Possessions Will Make You Happy If these aren’t good dreams—valid ones worthy of a person’s life—then what are? Here is my definition of a dream that can be put to the test and pass: a dream is an inspiring picture of the future that energizes your mind, will, and emotions, empowering you to do everything you can to achieve it.

Y tiene a sus pies, interpuestos, muchos montes que hay que subir pasando gradualmente de virtud en virtud. En la cima está el final de todo y la meta final de nuestro peregrinar. Alcanzarla es lo que quieren todos pero, como dice Ovidio: Y es que querer no es suficiente; para conseguir una cosa hay que desearla ardientemente. En tu caso, desde luego, a menos que en ello te engañes, como en tantas cosas, no sólo quieres, sino que deseas. ¿Qué te retiene entonces?

Call it magic, call it a deep connection to the earth. It can be labeled many things, but the fact is that every woman in the Stevens line has had some special ability. Your great-grandmother, my grandma Emma, could bake pies that inspired people to tell the truth. One bite of her apple streusel crumb pie and a man would confess to an affair. A forkful of her peach cobbler and feuding siblings would apologize for their mistakes and make up. I'm told her cherry pie was especially popular for making shy beaus finally declare their true love and propose to their sweethearts.

An air of anticipation hung over the lab. The pied crow—whose name, according to Tasha, was Pitch, and who had been raised in captivity, bouncing from wildlife center to wildlife center before winding up living in my sister’s private aviary—gripped her perch stubbornly with her talons and averted her eyes from the screen, refusing to react to the avatar that was trying to catch her attention. She’d been ignoring the screen for over an hour, shutting out four researchers and a bored linguist who was convinced that I was in the middle of some sort of creative breakdown. “All

He has already mastered (or become quite proficient at) a number of skills and techniques such as braises, fricassees, roasting, searing, and sautéing. He was already well versed in pie and pastry making, so teaching him laminated pastry and more difficult cakes and confectionary has proceeded much faster than I anticipated. (I suspect Helena feels the same, though she always pretends to be nonplussed at his progress.) His knowledge and interest in the dishes of other cultures also continues to surprise me. His empanadas, it seems, were only the tip of the bavarois. He makes a delightful curry after the East Indian style, and his fried plantains (both the sweet maduros and the crispy double-fried green ones) have become my new favorite snack before our evening meal. You would love them, Nanay, I am certain. Nanay, I've also taught him most of the rice dishes in my repertoire (as Helena continues to find rice to be rather lowly---though she eats risotto and paella readily enough when they're on the table), and although he was surprised when I first showed him plain, unadulterated rice as you make it, he soon gobbled it up and has been experimenting with more Eastern-inspired rice dishes and desserts and puddings ever since.

You've got ten fingers,' said Morris. 'Why not stick them in ten pies?

Dashing by Maisie Aletha Smikle On my farm I keep a firearm The deer I charm And then disarm To feed my family venison And stay away from medicine Sheep so sweet We love to eat Young lambs we chop To get lamb chops Pigs in wigs Dished their wigs to do a jig Pigs skinny dip Floated and strip So turkey chicken and rabbit May be covered with bacon strips Cows roaming in the valleys Cats left in the Alleys Bring the cows It's time to chow Beef for steak Make no mistake Mince it grind it chop it We must have it We plant dashene To cook and steam To feed the animals so they keep lean Fit and ready to consume Eat we must Or we'd be dust Knead the dough for the pie crust Get the pan it will not rust We will dine Without wine We will roast eat then toast Thanking God that He is our Host

The problem with cooking meat this way [open fire] is that even if it does not burn, the valuable and tasty juices drip away and the meat dries and shrinks. Other cooks at other times got around this problem by wrapping the meat up to protect it - in leaves, for example. Or clay. Clay that, to another cook in perhaps, another time and place, felt just like dough. This last inspired step created the primitive meat pie - something medieval cooks called a 'bake-mete'.

After a few millennia of inspiration, the primitive clay oven gave rise to the gleaming modern steel version. A high-tech oven alone does not, however, turn a bake-mete into a pie as we know it. One more important development was necessary. Pastry had to be invented.

Religious unity does not come so easily. It is not a piece of pie, which you can buy in the shop. It takes sincere efforts from every single human being on this planet.

Kids that age are very accepting. If we could just get them to keep that attitude, it might be a kinder world.

As a communicator, I spend a good portion of my days sharing stories. People don’t care a lot about cold facts. They don’t want to look at pie charts. They want excitement. They like drama. They care about pictures. They want to laugh. They want to see and feel what happened. Statistics don’t inspire people to do great things. Stories do!

So you moving on up To the top And you finally got a piece of the pie Some ain't got no pie Not even some fries But they ain't gonna cry lol

will tell you there's never a perfect way to carve up the pie. Realize that, when you optimize for one thing, it comes at the expense of something else. So, decide what's most important to you and go with that.

Shake Shack- The now multinational, publicly traded fast-food chain was inspired by the roadside burger stands from Danny's youth in the Midwest and serves burgers, dogs, and concretes- frozen custard blended with mix-ins, including Mast Brothers chocolate and Four & Twenty Blackbirds pie, depending on the location. Blue Smoke- Another nod to Danny's upbringing in the Midwest, this Murray Hill barbecue joint features all manner of pit from chargrilled oysters to fried chicken to seven-pepper brisket, along with a jazz club in the basement. Maialino- This warm and rustic Roman-style trattoria with its garganelli and braised rabbit and suckling pig with rosemary potatoes is the antidote to the fancy-pants Gramercy Park Hotel, in which it resides. Untitled- When the Whitney Museum moved from the Upper East Side to the Meatpacking District, the in-house coffee shop was reincarnated as a fine dining restaurant, with none other than Chef Michael Anthony running the kitchen, serving the likes of duck liver paté, parsnip and potato chowder, and a triple chocolate chunk cookie served with a shot of milk. Union Square Café- As of late 2016, this New York classic has a new home on Park Avenue South. But it has the same style, soul, and classic menu- Anson Mills polenta, ricotta gnocchi, New York strip steak- as it first did when Danny opened the restaurant back in 1985. The Modern- Overlooking the Miró, Matisse, and Picasso sculptures in MoMA's Sculpture Garden, the dishes here are appropriately refined and artistic. Think cauliflower roasted in crab butter, sautéed foie gras, and crispy Long Island duck.

Cuando el mundo te lo ha quitado todo, cuando se balancea y se desplaza constantemente bajo tus pies, es difícil creer que las cosas que te regala van a durar.

This isn’t just some pie-in-the-sky idea—without the critical ingredient that is candor, there can be no trust. And without trust, creative collaboration is not possible.

No pudimos impedir que se abriesen grietas. El problema que tienen las grietas es que mantienen en pie algo que antes era sólido, no se abren lo suficiente como para que eso se desmorone. Pero están ahí. Están latentes. Y cuando llueve..., cuando llueve el agua sale por todas partes.

That was the place to start. Jane Austen. A quick Internet search confirmed what I assumed: a diet full of fricassees, puddings and pies (savory and sweet), and stews, but few vegetables and a strong prejudice against salads until later in the nineteenth century. I looked up a Whole Foods nearby---a haven, albeit an expensive one, for fresh, organic, and beautiful produce---and then jotted down some recipes I thought would appeal to Jane's appetite. I landed on a green bean salad with mustard and tarragon and a simple shepherd's pie. She'd used mustard and tarragon in her own chicken salad. And I figured any good Regency lover would devour a shepherd's pie. I noted other produce I wanted to buy: winter squashes, root vegetables, kale and other leafy greens. All good for sautés, grilling, and stewing. And fava beans, a great thickener and nutritious base, were also coming into season. And green garlic and garlic flowers, which are softer and more delicate than traditional garlic, more like tender asparagus. I wanted to create comfortable, healthy meals that cooked slow and long, making the flavors subtle---comfortably Regency.

company’s managers are often labelled executives who passively execute routine activities. It’s little wonder that the public objects to CEO pay if millions are given to managers who simply execute. We sometimes use the word leaders to highlight how they can pursue new strategic directions and inspire their workforce.

The lemons life gave me are stored in a basket. Judgmental people provoke me to bake them into a whipped pie of sugary spite. I gladly serve it up to them...in an effort to silence their meringue pie hole from complaining.

Phyl Newton was visiting Sandy that evening, but the girls displayed a marked coolness toward Tom and Bud. Instead of engaging in conversation, they retired to Sandy's room upstairs to play records, while Mrs. Swift served the boys a warmed-up but tasty meal of roast beef and mince pie. "What's wrong? Are we repulsive or something?" Bud asked as they ate. Tom shrugged, concentrating on a mouthful of roast beef. "Search me. We sure don't seem very popular with the girls tonight." Mrs. Swift, overhearing their remarks in the kitchen, smiled but maintained a diplomatic silence. Suddenly Bud slapped his forehead. "Good night! No wonder!" Tom looked up with a grin of interest. "Well, what have we done?" "It's what we haven't done, pal!" Bud retorted. "We had a date this afternoon, remember? That beach party and dance put on by Sandy and Phyl's school sorority!" Tom gulped. "Oops! Boy, we really did pull a boner this time! I completely forgot!" As they finished supper, the boys discussed various ways to make amends. Boxes of chocolates? Flowers? None of their ideas seemed to have the proper spark. "We'll have to come up with something super," Bud said. "Right!" Tom agreed. "Let's sleep on it and see if we can't dream up something by tomorrow morning that'll really wow them." The next morning Tom had a flash of inspiration as he drove to the plant in his sports car. He hailed Bud at the first opportunity. "I

There is no problem that can't be solved with the help of a good carrot pie, my friend.

The idea is only the first step. If all ideas became profitable businesses, we would all be entrepreneurs. The only thing we know for sure is that some ideas are viable and others are not.

Relationships are more important than products. If you achieve a good product and capture a good number of customers, take advantage, cultivate and strengthen a lifelong relationship with them.

No one will put the recipe for success in your hands. It requires patience, along with the ability to combine your knowledge, resources and relationships with the opportunity presented to you.

Note that, as an entrepreneur, you are the face of entrepreneurship. Your voice and personality will be fully tied to the project. If you understand this, you will look for ways to make sure everyone else knows what you do.

Con los pies ligeros nos adentramos en la noche para robarle horas al propio tiempo y magia a la mismísima luna.

Okinawa-Inspired Smoothie I’ve been experimenting with a recipe for a delectable bright-purple smoothie that tastes like you are drinking a pumpkin pie. The sweet potato gives it an especially silky-smooth texture. There are a lot more recipes to come in my forthcoming The How Not to Age Cookbook, but to whet your appetite:

So there I was, drowning my sorrows in a slice of the most divine pecan pie in Austin, Texas, wondering why on earth I ever thought dating Bill was a good idea. But before I could finish my pie and wallow in self-pity, my fabulous best friend, Sky, swooped in like a fairy godmother in skinny jeans. With a swish of his rainbow-colored scarf, he convinced me that breaking up with Bill was the best decision I ever made. And just when I thought my love life couldn't get any crazier, a sexy billionaire strolled into the cafe, making my heart race faster than a Texan tornado.

Cómo vas a saber lo que es el amor, si nunca te hiciste hincha de un club. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el dolor, si jamás el zaguero te rompió la tibia y el peroné y estuviste en un barrera y la pelota te pego justo ahí. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el placer, si nunca diste una vuelta olímpica de visitante. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el cariño, si nunca la acariciaste de chanfle entrándole con el revés del pie para dejarla jadeando bajo la red. Escuchame… cómo vas a saber lo que es la solidaridad, si jamás saliste a dar la cara por un compañero golpeado desde atrás. Cómo vas a saber lo que es la poesía, si jamás tiraste una gambeta. Cómo vas a saber lo que es la humillación, si jamás te metieron un caño. Cómo vas a saber lo que es la amistad, si nunca devolviste una pared. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el pánico, si nunca te sorprendieron mal parado en un contragolpe. Cómo vas a saber lo que es morir un poco, si jamás fuiste a buscar la pelota adentro del arco. Decime viejo, cómo vas a saber lo que es la soledad, si jamás te paraste bajo los tres palos a 12 pasos de uno que te quería fusilar y terminar con tus esperanzas. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el barro, si nunca te tiraste a los pies de nadie para mandar una pelota sobre un lateral. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el egoísmo, si nunca hiciste una de mas cuando tenias que dársela al 9 que estaba solo. Como vas a saber lo que es el arte, si nunca, pero nunca inventaste una rabona. Como vas a saber lo que es la música, si jamás cantaste en la popular. Como vas a saber lo que es la injusticia, si nunca te saco tarjeta roja una referí localista. Decime, cómo vas a saber lo que es el insomnio, si jamás te fuiste al descenso. Cómo vas a saber lo que es el odio, si nunca hiciste un gol en contra. Cómo, pero como vas a saber lo que es llorar, sí, llorar, si jamás perdiste una final en un mundial, sobre la hora con un penal dudoso. Cómo vas a saber, querido amigo, cómo vas a saber lo que es la vida, si nunca jamás, jugaste al fútbol

Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) was an important inspiration for the book Apple Pie Ultra 8.

You're a degenerate, but we degenerates gotta stick together.

Off and on, for several years, I’d been reading Zen, I’d flirted with Tantric Hinduism, I’d surfed the smaller swells of Sufism, and tried to get down with the Tao. It was all very eye-opening and inspirational, and while Asian mysticism is an easy target for the sneers of secular cynics and sectarian dogmatists alike, it’s far more compatible with modern science than the misinterpreted Levantine myths, ecclesiastical fairy tales, pious platitudes, and near-desperate wishful thinking I’d been fed in Southern Baptist Sunday School. The wisdom in those spiritual texts was obvious, yet I’d integrated it into my daily life with but minimal success. From a practical point of view, it was like trying to teach a monkey to play chess.

The future of marketing and branding depends on our capability to shift from this competitive mindset to a creative mindset. We need to live in the conscious presence of the frontal lobe, the part of the mind that doesn’t fear that the other guy will steal our slice of the market share pie, but envisions ways to bake a bigger pie.

Fear is not the American way, I remind my children. So although I feel America's fear, and on some days even share its contempt or disdain, I do not believe that doing so reflects America at its best. As we strive for a better American union, it is knowledge and compassion, rather than fear mongering and ignorance, that must reign supreme. Today more than ever, America's hope, vision, and exceptionalism are needed as an inspiration for those who are aspiring and struggling to gain the freedom and rights we already have.

Although at first glance there may appear to be a fairly thin line between them, there are significant differences between the attempt to somehow magically exert one’s will on tangible reality for one’s own benefit (manifestation), and the inspiration to imagine entirely new realities (sometimes to add color and bounce to the drab waltz of existence, sometimes to facilitate the recognition of wonder, sometimes just for the hell of it); between an attempt to mentally force fortune to alter its course for one’s personal gain (to manifest, say, a winning lottery ticket), and possessing the lightness of spirit and the freedom of mind to live as if such developments would pale in comparison to those one regularly experiences at the piano, the easel, the writing pad, or upon viewing a pattern of fallen leaves in the gutter; to live -- against all evidence -- as if advances in fortune were already here.

There are ten thousand opportunities on the horizon. The pie keeps growing and, in a rapidly evolving marketplace, white spaces and blue oceans will continue to surround us.

Il n'a jamais frappé ma mère, mais : l'a menacée de disparition, traitée de connasse et de vioque une bonne centaine de fois, a tendu son poing au-dessus d'elle, lui a agrippé les seins de colère et d'excitation mêlées dans la cuisine, lui a rappelé qu'elle n'était pas bonne à grand chose, puis lui a rappelé le contraire, qu'elle pouvait tout faire, qu'elle était bien plus intelligente et talentueuse qu'elle n'osait se le figurer. L'a comblée et humiliée, parfois dans une même phrase, un même geste, l'a tordue. Une seule chose était certaine : sans lui, elle ne s'en sortirait pas. Il ne m'a jamais frappée avec ses poings, mais : m'a jetée d'un coup de pied du haut de l'escalier, pris le bras entre ses deux mains, tordant ma peau d'enfant sous la sienne, plus rêche, plus marquée par la vie, m'a menacée surtout, souvent, pour m'apprendre la vie, m'a dit et répété que j'allais le payer, plus tard, que je paierais tout, même ce que je n'avais pas fait, que tout se payait, son poing au-dessus de mon visage, m'a dit et répété cela, me parlant d'une voix fauve, comme on montre les crocs.

she had once whispered to Cordelia, sprinkling a pinch of pepper over a dish. “Food can heal all manner of maladies.” Cook would stir up herby stews to soothe hurt feelings, bake honey cakes to mend broken hearts, make crinkle-crusted pies for courage and melting-cheese pastries to bolster tired souls. Her cucumber soup could cool a hot temper and her bread-and-butter pudding inspired kindness in even the grumpiest person. Her roast potatoes seemed to help with everything.