A Quote by Margaret Atwood

There's blood, a taste I remember. It tastes of orange popsicles, penny gumballs, red licorice, gnawed hair, dirty ice. — © Margaret Atwood
There's blood, a taste I remember. It tastes of orange popsicles, penny gumballs, red licorice, gnawed hair, dirty ice.
But I have always thought that these tulips must have had names. They were red, and orange and red, and red and orange and yellow, like the ember in a nursery fire of a winter's evening. I remember them.
Red candy is my favorite - I like red string licorice, Swedish Fish, and red gum balls.
My mum taught me that redheads shouldn't wear pink, red or orange, but if you choose the right shade, such as a bright orange or a cherry red, it can look fabulous.
I have really long hair, so I don't cut it all that often. Sometimes, when I'm working, I just have the stylist on set trim it for me. I don't dye my hair. When I was a teenager, I dyed my hair five colors at one time. It was all different shades of red going from more orange to more purple. I thought I looked so cool.
We're like licorice. Not everybody likes licorice, but the people who like licorice really like licorice.
I don't engage in self-censorship. But I do change everybody to have red hair in the last draft. ... If you give people red hair when in real life they haven't got red hair, I've noticed they don't recognize themselves, anyway.
Precise historical reasons are difficult to pinpoint, but red hair, it seems, bestows a sense of otherness. Red is the colour of blood and danger.
Soon to come in licorice, orange, cinnamon, and banana, but not strawberry, because I hate strawberries.
I have forgotten much, but still remember The poinsiana's red, blood-red in warm December.
You know what ambrosia tastes like? It tastes like all the things you can't eat on Weight Watchers. Cheeseburgers, sugar cookies, regular freaking ice cream instead of, like, ice cream that's made out of air and human hope.
I smell blood. I'm like a pit bull. Once I taste blood I'm on you .. and I'm about to taste blood.
Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?” I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.” “I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light it on fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.
If your taste goes wrong or you listen to other people's tastes too much, even though they could make a fantastic movie out of it with their own tastes, if they blend their tastes with mine, it's probably going to be a mess.
I don't mind a little blood on the ice when it's a hockey rink, but I hate seeing blood on the ice when it's from baby seals.
Brown Penny I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.
Many popsicles you'll find in a supermarket have a lot of unwanted sugar or preservatives, but with a few ingredients you can make healthier popsicles with any flavor you can imagine.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!