A Quote by John Heywood

I know on which side my bread is buttered. — © John Heywood
I know on which side my bread is buttered.

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I know which side my bread is buttered on: the side which falls on the carpet.
Deliberation, n.: The act of examining one's bread to determine which side it is buttered on.
A philosopher is a person who doesn't care which side his bread is buttered on; he knows he eats both sides anyway.
Ministers fall like buttered slices of bread: usually on their good side.
I don't see what difference it makes what side it's [your bread] buttered on. I always eat both sides.
I know where my bread is buttered, and for the most part, I'm better off doing my own thing.
The Victorians have been immoderately praised, and immoderately blamed, and surely it is time we formed some reasonable picture of them? There was their courageous, intellectually adventurous side, their greedy and inhuman side, their superbly poetic side, their morally pretentious side, their tea and buttered toast side, and their champagne and Skittles side. Much like ourselves, in fact, though rather dirtier.
You've buttered your bread, now sleep in it.
You know how you put peanut butter on a piece of bread and the bread falls - it never falls on the bread side down, it always falls peanut butter side down. That's because of gravity.
Side by side with the human race there runs another race of beings, the inhuman ones, the race of artists who, goaded by unknown impulses, take the lifeless mass of humanity and by the fever and ferment with which they imbue it turn this soggy dough into bread and the bread into wine and the wine into song.
A slab of bread "buttered" with lard and, if you were lucky, seasoned with salt and pepper, was a luxury.
A slice of perfectly buttered, warm-from-the-oven bread has been known to bring tears to my eyes.
Give me buttered white bread with Marmite crisps and salad cream and I'm a happy girl.
Cast your bread upon the waters, and after many days it will come back buttered.
My career is like an artichoke. People might think that the leaves are tasty and buttered up and delicious, and they don't even know that there's something magical hidden at the base of it. There's a whole other side of me that people didn't know existed.
The old days were slower. People buttered their bread without guilt and sat down to dinner en famille.
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