Murphy Brown Quotes

When God made man she was practicing.

Happiness is pretty simple: someone to love, something to do, something to look forward to.

No one is ever safe. So why not live as much as you can?

humans are much more like sheep than cats. They’re easily led and they don’t look where they’re going until it’s too late.

full bloom, the pastures turning an impossible emerald green, she

the times had become more ruthlessly commercial. Even

To work at what you love—a heaping up of joys.

He thought how strange life was. The certainties vanish. What takes their place is resourcefulness and thanking God for life.

small log cabin once stood near the creek, but as the Jones family’s fortunes

Humans are fundamentally irrational. They use what precious rationality they have justifying their irrational behavior. A

Cazenovia

PAST CLAWS AND EFFECT

Every place has unsolved crimes because people don’t want to know.

They’re walking around in clothing but they’re still the same animals who lived in caves, feared the dark, and smashed one another over the head for beans.

Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

Now, twenty years later, Candice Bergen, who played Murphy Brown, admitted Quayle was right – but at the time, Quayle was running for re-election, and so he had to be wrong.

I have always believed a window into a person’s true nature is how they treat animals, children, and the elderly. A person who mistreats animals isn’t worth knowing. A person who mistreats children—especially those who abuse and kill them—should be shot without wasting any taxpayer money for a trial and for feeding them in prison. When a perpetrator of heinous crimes can live in a climate-controlled environment and eat three meals a day while good people go hungry, something is very wrong. Americans are paying for serial killers, rapists, and child abusers to live better than they do.

You know, it’s hell to work with a cat. They really are smarter than we are. Have you ever gotten anyone to feed you, pay your bills, give you the best chair in the house, tell you how beautiful you are, and groom you daily? Me, neither. Yours,

The irony, as Slate’s Amanda Marcotte has observed, is that conservatives are surely maddest at and most threatened by powerful single women—the privileged, well-positioned women who earn money, wield influence, enjoy national visibility, and have big voices: Anita Hill, Murphy Brown, Sandra Fluke, Lena Dunham.

Every time you behold the Blue Ridge Mountains, every time you feel a snowflake on your eyelashes, every time you see a frog on a lily pad, every time a friend gives you his hand, Brooks, God loves you. You’re surrounded by His love. We look for it in all the wrong places as we pray for worldly success. We say that must be proof of God’s love. Some people pray not for material success but for an easy life.” He shook his head. “No, even our pains are a sign of His love, for they will lead you to the right path, if you’ll only listen.

Nothing sadder on this earth than a human being without a cat. She

the further humans move from nature, the crazier they get. In

Spending is worse than pain, she thought; it lasts longer.

Elocution,

Dalwhinnie,

Only a human would die for an idea.

Life’s too short to try and understand cold-blooded creatures.

Thank the Lord, Tucker’s a corgi,” Pewter, upset herself, blurted out. “Smart as a cat.

Friendship distills the sweetness of life.

All’s well here. Hope your life is full of mice, moles, voles, butterflies, and the occasional inattentive bird. In Catitude, Sneaky Pie

While industry and cars cause pollution, removing trees exacerbates the problem.

work

events.

bitch.

Corruption is like a lily—brush against it, however lightly, and some of the pollen smears on you. Therefore choose your friends and your employers wisely.

I think those who do what they love don’t grow older like other people.

had learned how to use her breasts to get exactly what she wanted from men, hence the nickname “Nightingale,” a euphemism for prostitutes, all of whom knew how to use their bosoms. This was

Susan and Harry when they were young. Consumption became tuberculosis. Wasting became cancer. Malaise became stroke, blood disorder became leukemia. If anyone remarried, the second spouse hung on the wall to the sunroom, not

Well?” He thought about it now. “I think a woman’s sphere can be taxing, and perhaps for you, as you indicate, boring. I would hate to think of you being bored! I— I am rather afraid I would bore you. I am not a wealthy or an educated man.” “But you are a brave one. You fought, and I suppose you will again.” Catherine stared intently into his eyes. “Captain Schuyler, if you would let me be me, you would never bore me. I truly do want to ride, dance, laugh, and

He held up a DVD in a blue cardboard envelope, which bore Pete’s distinctive scrawl. “Can’t believe the technology.” “If I have a good Christmas I’ll buy myself a DVD player. Still have a year of car payments left.” She paused. “Prices keep coming down.

Why?” Mrs. Hogendobber might preach about evil, but when confronted with it she was at a loss. She expected the Devil with green horns or a human being with a snarling face. It had never once occurred to her in her long and relatively happy life that evil is ordinary.

Many of you remember when Dutch Elm disease swept the East Coast. People in big cities saw the trees die but it didn’t register, in any way at all, that this would compromise oxygen. Think of it, that many trees dying in that short a time span means there is less photosynthesis. Less oxygen is being produced. Therefore pollution in the big cities becomes more pronounced. These basics do not occur to people who work in buildings where the windows don’t open.

But she is, and disappoitment crashes over me. I draw closer to her bed and see that she's on her side facing the window, the covers tucked around her shoulders, her eyes closed and lips pursed. Without thought I settle on the edge of the bed as gently as possible., seeking her warmth. Reaching out, I touch her hair, letting the dark brown strands sift through my fingers. She's the total opposite of me. Dark hair to my blond, chocolate-brown eyes to my pale blue ones, sweet to my bastard-like ways.

There were movies to go see at the Gem, which has long since been torn down; science fiction movies like Gog with Richard Egan and westerns with Audie Murphy (Teddy saw every movie Audie Murphy made at least three times; he believed Murphy was almost a god) and war movies with John Wayne. There were games and endless bolted meals, lawns to mow, places to run to, walls to pitch pennies against, people to clap you on the back. And now I sit here trying to look through an IBM keyboard and see that time, trying to recall the best and the worst of that green and brown summer, and I can almost feel the skinny, scabbed boy still buried in this advancing body and hear those sounds. But

As Herb sliced his small partridge stuffed with wild rice, the fresh vegetables artfully arranged on his plate by the cook, the conversation flowed. Lucy Fur, standing on her hind legs on the floor, raised a paw, placing it on Herb’s thigh. He cut a small piece of partridge for her, put it on a bread plate, and bent over. No one said a word, since everyone there would have done the same thing. The springer spaniel rejoined them upon hearing the plate scrape the floor. These were animal people. The differences among them were differences of income, age, gender, and the mysteries of personality. But when it came to animals, they were as one. Every single one of them, even Tazio, new to animal ownership, cherished a deep respect for all life.

Avocado Brownies   Vegetables have always been used in desserts, but this avocado brownie is truly special because the avocado gives it a lot of moisture and a smooth, creamy consistency. Just a square of this and your taste buds will be in heaven.   Yields: 10 servings   Ingredients: 2 ripe avocados, mashed 1 cup dark chocolate (72% cocoa), melted 1/4 cup coconut oil 1/2 cup agave syrup 2 brown eggs 1 cup almond flour 1/4 cup organic unsweetened cocoa powder 1 pinch salt 1 teaspoon baking soda   Directions: 1. In a bowl, mix the avocados with the melted chocolate, then stir in the eggs, agave syrup and coconut oil. 2. Fold in the almond flour, cocoa powder, salt and baking soda. 3. Spoon the batter into a baking pan lined with parchment paper and bake in a preheated oven at 350F for 30-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. If it comes out with traces of batter, the cake needs a few more minutes in the oven. 4. When done, remove from the oven and let it cool completely before cutting in smaller portions.   Nutritional information per serving   Calories: 280 Fat: 20.6g Protein: 5g Carbohydrates: 24.7g

Eventually I came to understand some of what was at work between my father and Murphy. Unable to meet each other on equal terms, they chose not to meet at all but to orbit around each other like two separate planets of entirely different composition. It was, I realize now, the way my father dealt with just about everyone, including his wife and children.

It has been well documented that for a few decades MTV played music videos. VJs like J.J. Jackson, ‘Downtown’ Julie Brown (‘we saw your boobs’ – hat nod to Seth MacFarlane), and wet-fart Jesse Camp used to intro the freshest, hippest songs in all the land. Heck, they even introduced us to the musical side of Eddie Murphy with his immortal anthem ‘Party All The Time’. Nothing beats the cameo from Rick James in which he nods uncontrollably each time Murphy fails to hit a note.

Help me,” said the Brown Sister. Her face

Ye might should have Mr. Murphy make ye some broth on that same account, Mac Dubh. They do say as ’tis dangerous to get chilled after hard work, aye? Ye dinna want to take the ague.” There was a faint twinkle in the mournful brown depths

Be afraid of bombs on the metro. Be afraid of bombs on airplanes. Be afraid of mass murders lurking in the dark. Oh, but don't be afraid of the wrong people (brown and/or Muslim) because if you do, you become worse than the terrorists... you become a racist.

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

James Lee asked Bobby if he had ever referred to Reggie Brown as an employer at Picaboo. Bobby said he hadn’t. Lee showed him an automated email from Facebook, reading “Bobby Murphy tagged you in Picaboo under Employers.” Bobby’s eyes darted, his head tilted down, and he twitched his mouth nervously. Glancing up at Lee, he sheepishly replied “Uh … Well it looks like here that I did something to that effect,” Murphy said. “I don’t have a specific recollection of this happening … although I would say that it would have been unclear to me what … tagging someone as an ‘employer’ under Facebook would mean.” The following Monday, it was Evan’s turn in front of the deposition camera. Like Bobby, Evan got tripped up a few times. After getting Evan on the record that Reggie had not been building an application with Evan and Bobby, Lee showed Evan an email he sent to Nicole James, the blogger who wrote about Snapchat, in which he wrote, “I just built an app with two friends of mine (certified bros.)” Evan reluctantly admitted that the two people he was referring to were Bobby and Reggie. The deposition continued: “Did you come up with the idea for deleting picture messages?” “No.” “Did Bobby come up with the idea?” “No, he did not.” “Who came up with the idea?” “Reggie did.” “Do you think Reggie deserves anything for the contributions he made on the project?” Evan paused for seven seconds. The room was dead silent. “Reggie may deserve something for some of his contributions.” “Do you have any regrets?” Evan sat still for thirty seconds. Again, the room was noiseless. Evan searched for the right words. “That’s a really hard question for me because it’s pretty clear that I lost a good friend.

She looked at Murphy, whose crazy brown hair leapt out of her cheap wool hat like snakes in a trick can of nuts. Then she winked at Judge Abbott as if they were in on some private joke. “Murphy, you should come in for a cut before your interviews start.” Murphy squinted at Lucretia with exaggerated concern. “Do they do waxing? It looks like your mustache is growing back.

But what was the right thing? Letting the show go on, as written? Or stepping in, hoping that I could—in a respectful way—point out how things could be different? It would be a mistake to remind producers what they already knew—that a TV series has an unspoken agreement with its audience to be what it has been from the beginning. A sitcom shouldn’t become a drama. Nobody wants to see a homicide investigation on Mr. Belvedere. (On Murphy Brown, maybe.) A show about a middle-class suburban family shouldn’t suddenly focus on illegal immigrants and their struggle to cross the border. My inner voice kept reminding me that I was just a kid, while the producers were authority figures—albeit odd authority figures. As a child actor, I had learned early that I wielded more power than most adults, yet my parents instilled within me a respect and a desire to submit to authority. My parents never put up with the typical child-star behavior.

I lived most of my life with a Charlie Brown or Murphy’s Law attitude that said, “It’s normal for things to go wrong, so if anything goes right, it must be a mistake.