“March came in that winter like the meekest and mildest of lambs, bringing days that were crisp and golden and tingling, each followed by a frosty pink twilight which gradually lost itself in an elfland of moonshine.”
―
―
“If I had thought the beef marrow might be a hell of a lot of work for not much difference, I needn’t have worried. The taste of the marrow is rich, meaty, intense in a nearly-too-much way. In my increasingly depraved state, I could think of nothing at first but that it tasted like really good sex. But there was something more than that, even. What it really tastes like is life, well lived. Of course the cow I got marrow from had a fairly crappy life – lots of crowds and overmedication and bland food that might or might not have been a relative. But deep in his or her bones, there was a capacity for feral joy. I could taste it.”
― Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously
― Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously
“But on a Sunday morning when I want to grab an omelet over girl talk, I’m at a loss. My Chicago friends are the let’s-get-dinner-on-the-books-a-month-in-advance type. We email, trading dates until we find an open calendar slot amidst our tight schedules of workout classes, volunteer obligations (no false pretenses here, the volunteers are my friends, not me, sadly), work events, concert tickets and other dinners scheduled with other girls. I’m looking for someone to invite to watch The Biggest Loser with me at the last minute or to text “pedicure in half an hour?” on a Saturday morning. To me, that’s what BFFs are.”
― MWF Seeking BFF: My Yearlong Search For A New Best Friend
― MWF Seeking BFF: My Yearlong Search For A New Best Friend
“Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring?”
―
―
“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead.”
― When We Were Very Young
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead.”
― When We Were Very Young
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