Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Mince. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Mince Quotes And Sayings by 87 Authors including Alfred Lord Tennyson,A.p.,Preet Bharara,Oliver Potzsch,James Joyce for you to enjoy and share.
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string?
I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.
Sabine used to maintain that preparation for a dance is comparable to what goes on in the back room of a butcher's shop: the meat for consumption is sliced and dressed and put in nice little paper packages, ready for the kitchen.
I'm a big fan of meat.
The most precious thing I have,
What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Incomplete.
Who spit in your porridge?
One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
The sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it.
Twig-minx!" it screamed. "scrap-brat!
Martise, lower your knife. There are more than a few people eager to carve out my heart. You'll have to take your place in line.
I have butchered many men. All are innocent and equaled when they are on the table. All are exquisite and grotesque. -Dr. Spencer Black
I jus luvs me some lily white turkey
meats".
~R. Alan Woods [2012]
You transfix me quite.
I am a simple creature.
Meat is a status dish in which the sizzle counts for more than the nutritional worth.
Fine fellows - cannibals - in their place.
Scrawny little mundane bastard.
A pretty little minnow ... cool as rain, blue as heaven ...
Get me meat. Lots of it. Meat on meat
While you make pretty speeches I'm being cut to shreds You feed me to the lions A delicate balance
I would beseech you not only to be pure beyond suspicion but I would ask you to combine with stainless purity, great wisdom and great ability.
Fewmets is my new swear word. I'm tired of all the old ones.
But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart
Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.
piece of Turkey carpet
Who hastens a glutton choakes him.
Still, dust and ashes I am, allow me to speak before your mercy.
thou art the best o' the cut-throats
My manner of living is plain and I do not mean to be put out of it. A glass of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready.
All Butcher's previous politeness was revealed as so much bad milk floating in a cup of welcome tea ...
I am a mediocre being, a bit cunning.
What am I but a little flesh, a little breath, and the thinking part that rules the whole?
Now, when any vicious simpleton excites my disgust by his paltry ribaldry ...
If a minstrel must embroider the truth to help us recall it fully, then let her, and let no one say she has lied. Truth is often much larger than facts.
Clamorous pauperism feastest
While honest Labor, pining, hideth his sharp ribs.
A lot of screams for so little wool, said the man who sheared the pig
rectangular slab of mincemeat that everyone, including the servers, referred to as baked turd.
I am a minstrel. I know more about lying than you will ever discover. And minstrels know that sometimes lies are what a man needs most. In order to make a new truth of them.
Such a visage, joined to the brawny form of the holy man, spoke rather of sirloins and haunches than of pease and pulse.
I love thee like puddings; if thou wert pie I'd eat thee.
Tradition, thou art for suckling children, Thou art the enlivening milk for babes, But no meat for men is in thee.
I had thought you were a better man, Mr Reid, a man of your word, but I see that you are nothing but a paltry hommelette.'
'An omelette?'
'Yes, your word is not worth a dam.
Judge tenderly of me.
It ain't my cup of meat.
The Thin Man
I indulge myself
In rich refusals.
Nothing suffices.
I hone myself to
This edge. Asleep, I
Am a horizon.
Flog no one else with meat.
Jack Stepney had once said of Miss Van Osburgh that she was as reliable as roast mutton. His own taste was in the line of less solid and more highly-seasoned diet; but hunger makes any fare palatable, and there had been times when Mr. Stepney had been reduced to a crust.
That which sufficeth is not little.
cram's with praise, and make's
As fat as tame things.
One good deed dying tongueless
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages; you may ride's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
With spur we heat an acre.
And ne er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a naiad or a grace Of finer form or lovelier face ...
I should like to know what well-constituted mind, merely because it is transitory, dislikes roast beef?
God is a lonely place without steak.
[ ... ] it is not easy to talk [ ... ] religion to men who measure excellence by forbidden meats [ ... ]
Here is neither want of appetite nor mouths,
Pray heaven we be not scant of meat or mirth.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond...
I am not the sharpest knife in the knife-thing.
Oh how I hate you, you filthy. But you're cleaner than me, because you've got no mind to sell, just that poor flesh.
Aggle flabble kabble . . . snurp?
An ounce of sequins can be worth a pound of home cooking.
My refusing to eat meat occasioned inconveniency, and I have been frequently chided for my singularity. But my light repast allows for greater progress, for greater clearness of head and quicker comprehension.
The fact is, that among his hunters at least, the whale would by all hands be considered a noble dish, were there not so much of him; but when you come to sit down before a meat-pie nearly one hundred feet long, it takes away your appetite.
You are the Worst Kind of Animal. A Butcher by Day and a Pussy Cat by Night.
For in the fatness of these pursy times
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
The farce is finished. I go to seek a vast perhaps.
What man with a human heart, who has ever cared for domestic animals, could look into their eyes, so full of confidence and affection, and willingly give them over to the butcher's knife? How could he devour their flesh as a sweet morsel?
The more fodder, the more flesh; the more flesh, the more manure; the more manure, the more grain.
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold.
Ah, I remember now why you ceased to amuse, Myrnin. You use honesy like a club.
Be a terror to the butchers, that they may be fair in their weight; and keep hucksters and fraudulent dealers in awe, for the same reason.
When, to gratify a private appetite, it is once resolved upon that an ignorant and helpless creature shall be sacrificed, it is an easy matter to pick up sticks enough from any thicket where it has strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with.
It is a solemn thought: dead, the noblest man's meat is inferior to pork.
There's an island over there. On that island there are trees. Under those trees there are animals carrying around chops and roast beefs, and I wouldn't mind a bit sinking my teeth into a little good meat.
Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.
I enjoy meat, but I can do without it.
But the effort, the effort! And as the marrow is eaten out of a man's bones and the soul out of his belly, contending with the strange rapacity of savage life, the lower stage of creation, he cannot make the effort any more.
Thou art hunger, yo. Make with the starvation.
Flesh. The word must become flesh; the soul thirsts. On whatever crumb my eye fastens,
I am not a yard of ribbon. I am not a leg of ham. I am not for sale to anyone.
Manna today or I starve.
It's food too fine for angels, yet come, take and eat thy fill!
Kessa began to cut her meat into tiny pieces. As a whole it was unmanageable, frightening; but divided and arranged, the meat could be controlled. She cut four pieces. She'd count to four between each bite.
Now is the time for guts and guile
No tea for the feeble, no crepe for the dead.
Dieve--but I'm glad I'm not a hog.
Not so much thy skill, then, O hunter, as the great necessities that strike the victory to thee!
And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
As God is propitiated by the blood of a hundred bulls, so also is he by the smallest offering of incense.
[Lat., Sed tamen ut fuso taurorum sanguine centum,
Sic capitur minimo thuris honore deux.]
I got a girl named Bony Maronie, she's as skinny as a stick of macaroni.
Heaven sends us good meat, but the Devil sends cooks.
What else? A handful of hard white sugar lumps from the supply for the master's table. Sugar and cake and blood and pork. That's what little boys are made of.
The proverbe saith that many a smale maketh a grate.
One does not leave so small and beautiful a female creature alone with ten heated men in the middle of the night.
God speaks in the least of creatures.
You don't spell it, son. You eat it.
Men would live exceedingly quiet if these two words, mine and thine, were taken away.
For who hath despised the day of small things?
I'll trim you babies like little lambs
Stripped of the cunning artifices of the tailor, and standing forth in the garb of Eden - what a sorry set of round-shouldered, spindle-shanked, crane-necked varlets would civilized men appear!
Think naught a trifle, though it small appear:
Small sands the mountain, moments make the year,
And trifles life.
She bid me to look out on the lawn at the leper girls who were running on lame feet, playing croquet with crippled hands.
"There is beauty," she said, "in the least beautiful of things.
I am only a little lion, child, and I vow, I shall not savage you.