When the waiter brought the cheese-board, there was a large carrot carved in the shape of a mermaid sitting between the Dolcelatte and the Pecorino. Teo could have sworn that the carrot-mermaid flexed her tail and plunged her little hand inside a smelly Gorgonzola. 'Tyromancy, ye know,' remarked the mermaid. 'The Ancient Art of Divination by Cheese.' Then she pulled her tiny hand out and inspected the green cheese-mold on her tiny fingers. 'Lackaday!' she moaned. 'Stinking! It goes poorly for Venice and Teodora, it do!
Michelle LovricMots clés humour cheese mermaid divination foretelling
Life is great. Cheese makes it better.
Avery AamesA long time ago people believed that the world is flat and the moon is made of green cheese. Some still do, to this day. The man on the moon is looking down and laughing.
Vera NazarianMots clés man world belief moon believe cheese beliefs laughing real imaginary flat-earth man-in-the-moon flat green-cheese
Age is of no importance unless you’re a cheese.
Billie Burke...‘All this suffering,’ I said, ‘and nothing but greed and violence to build on when the war is over.’
‘Have another soda-mint,’ said Charles.
I had one. Then I said, ‘Why are we here? That’s what I don’t understand. Why be here at all when it all has to be so beastly?’
‘I suppose we just came, like mould on cheese.’
‘Then why do we want to be happy? Mould on cheese doesn’t want to be happy.’ ...
Mots clés meaning-of-life cheese
I just don't see the point of not eating cheese. I mean, if God didn't want us to eat cheese, would he have let man invent it?
Lisa SamsonMots clés food cheese christian
If you are able to introduce a white person to a new cheese, it's like introducing them to a future spouse.
Christian LanderMots clés humor food cheese white-people
You have to be a romantic to invest yourself, your money, and your time in cheese.
Anthony BourdainMots clés food romance cheese essays
A silence fell at the mention of Gavard. They all looked at each other cautiously. As they were all rather short of breath by this time, it was the camembert they could smell. This cheese, with its gamy odour, had overpowered the milder smells of the marolles and the limbourg; its power was remarkable. Every now and then, however, a slight whiff, a flute-like note, came from the parmesan, while the bries came into play with their soft, musty smell, the gentle sound, so to speak, of a damp tambourine. The livarot launched into an overwhelming reprise, and the géromé kept up the symphony with a sustained high note.
Émile ZolaMots clés cheese cheese-symphony
Peaches and Cheese”:
The vagabond sun winks down through the trees,
While lilacs, like memories, waft on the breeze,
My friend, I was born for days such as these,
To inhale perfume,
And cut through the gloom,
And feast like a king upon peaches and cheese!
I’ll travel this wide world and go where I please,
Can’t stop my wand’ring, it’s like a disease.
My only regret as I cross the high seas:
What I leave behind,
Though I hope to find,
My own golden city of peaches and cheese!
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