A Quote by Johann Georg Ritter von Zimmermann

The quarter of an hour before dinner is the worst that suitors can choose. — © Johann Georg Ritter von Zimmermann
The quarter of an hour before dinner is the worst that suitors can choose.
The half-hour before dinner has always been considered as the great ordeal through which the mistress, in giving a dinner-party, will either pass with flying colours, or lose many of her laurels.
I owe all my success in life to having been always a quarter of an hour before my time.
EAT, v.i. To perform successively (and successfully) the functions of mastication, humectation, and deglutition. 'I was in the drawing-room, enjoying my dinner,' said Brillat-Savarin, beginning an anecdote. 'What!' interrupted Rochebriant; 'eating dinner in a drawing-room?' 'I must beg you to observe, monsieur,' explained the great gastronome, 'that I did not say I was eating my dinner, but enjoying it. I had dined an hour before.'
We are all a quarter good, a quarter bad, a quarter animal and a quarter child which equals a whole bunch of crazy.
This veridic nose arrives everywhere a quarter of an hour before its master. Ten shoemakers, good round fat ones too, go and sit down to work under it out of the rain.
It's important to choose initial investors who are not twitchy and rushing for an exit. Wall Street's quarter-by-quarter lens may make the CEO make sub-optimal long-term decisions.
Everybody is pretty good in the first quarter. Second quarter, you have a little bump or two on you coming into the half. By the time the third quarter comes around, you're tired, you're laboring. When you come to the fourth quarter, it calls on your character.
I've gotten it down to one hour. If dinner takes me longer than an hour to prepare, then it is too complicated. So it has to be simple.
Under a tyranny, most friends are a liability. One quarter of them turn "reasonable" and become your enemies, one quarter are afraid to speak, and one quarter are killed and you die with them. But the blessed final quarter keep you alive.
At the senior prom for my Catholic boarding school, I was feeling manly, so I shaved, even though I didn't need to. Being inexperienced, I managed to slice a quarter-inch gash into my lower chin a half hour before I picked up my date.
I always think about the simplest things in a relationship that have frustrated me. It always sort of comes down to communication. Even something as simple as probably the worst thing that could happen is, 'Where do you want to go to dinner?' 'I dunno. Where do you want to go to dinner?' 'I dunno.' That might be the worst thing in the world.
I hate homework. I hate it more now than I did when I was the one lugging textbooks and binders back and forth from school. The hour my children are seated at the kitchen table, their books spread out before them, the crumbs of their after-school snack littering the table, is without a doubt the worst hour of my day.
Sneaking up on it sometimes helps: I've found I can be very productive for an hour before dinner, because there obviously isn't enough time to really do anything, so I can tell myself I'm just screwing around.
Use now and then a little Exercise a quarter of an Hour before Meals, as to swing a Weight, or swing your Arms about with a small Weight in each Hand; to leap, or the like, for that stirs the Muscles of the Breast.
Twilight was the worst hour, because it was the hour of indecision.
I have my own religion. I'm sort of one-quarter Baptist, one-quarter Catholic, one-quarter Jewish.
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