A Quote by Geoffrey Zakarian

The worst day is just that I did not enter the culinary world sooner. And the best day was seeing the reaction of my one year old daughter when she tasted her first crisp apple!
My daughter is in love with Adele. She listens to her every day. To see someone with that much passion and soul move a 9-year-old is amazing and it's magical.
She was thirty-nine. No, she did not envy her eighteen-year- old self at all. But she did envy, envied every day more bitterly, that young girl's genuine independence, largeness, scope, and courage.
My daughter lives in an apartment (hovel) in Brooklyn, so disgusting the roaches don't even bother hiking up the four flights of stairs to her door. Did I mention that she has a family of mice living under her stove? If she would promise to carry a weapon in her bag, I would never ask her to visit again. Best Mother's Day gift I could ask for!
I quit my day job the day my daughter was born. I remember flying to Cleveland and hitting a thunderstorm, which caused the plane to lose pressure, and the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. We felt the plane dropping; the pilot was taking it down to regain cabin pressure. My heart was in my stomach. I found out after landing that her mom was in labor. I did the show and came back to New York. By the time I walked into the hospital, my daughter was being born. She was waiting for me. She's a sweet daddy's girl. She's premed. She has her own pie company. She works for Habitat for Humanity.
In her memoir, Anne Robinson recounts the wake-up call which motivated her to stop drinking. Leaving her eight-year-old daughter alone in their car while she went to buy liquor, she returned to find her daughter with tears running down her cheeks. The guilt and horror Ms. Robinson felt at this sight jolted her into sobriety.
It was the best kind of November day. Cold and crisp, but not quite freezing, not icy. Just cold enough that she could justifiably wear all her favorite clothes—cardigans and tights and leg warmers.
My wife never knew she'd be married to a 90-year-old. And I've prayed that I wouldn't be a crabby old coot, but a happy, joyous man who would let her know each day how much I love her and thank her for her loving care.
I tried to interest my daughter in dancing, but she didn't take to it. As a five-year-old, she got lost on the way to her first class. After that she didn't go to dance class again.
My eleven year old daughter mopes around the house all day waiting for her breasts to grow.
I'll be so excited to take my daughter to her first fashion show, but I think, for her, it's best to wait until she's old enough to appreciate it. Or, at least, until she can pronounce the designer's names!
One day my 3-year-old daughter said 'Your very handsome, Poppy.' That was the best compliment ever.
I was living as a young single mom. I was 19 when I was divorced, and my daughter was a year old, and I waited tables here three to four nights a week for several years while I was trying to support myself and my daughter and the day I got that acceptance at Harvard Law School was an unforgettable day.
If one day I have a daughter and my daughter wants to be a model, I would never let her! But then, if she wants to, what can I do? But definitely not until she's 18 years old. You know, every work has the bad side, and people will be mean to you, and when you're young, you don't know how to defend yourself.
She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst… Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.
I didn't have familiarity with children. I'm learning day after day, with her [daughter]. And what impresses me the most is that she, Deva, is an individual person. But in miniature, she seems to be a special effect.
When I was either 7 or 8 years old, I did a sketch every day of my teacher and what she wore. At the end of the year, I gave her the sketchbook. For me, the sketching of dresses was about fantasy and dreams.
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