A Quote by Mike Cameron

A cat that jumps on a hot stove will never jump on a hot stove again. Neither will it jump on a cold stove. — © Mike Cameron
A cat that jumps on a hot stove will never jump on a hot stove again. Neither will it jump on a cold stove.
The cat, having sat upon a hot stove lid, will not sit upon a hot stove lid again. Nor upon a cold stove lid.
We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it and stop there lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove lid again and that is well but also she will never sit down on a cold one anymore.
If a cat sits on a hot stove once, it will never sit on a cold one either.
At some point in your career, someone is going to tell you, "This stove is hot. Do not touch this stove." And the weird thing is, you'll want to touch it. But resist that urge, man.
I can see you in the kitchen bending over a hot stove, and I can't see the stove
An Ant on a hot stove-lid runs faster than an Ant on a cold one. Who wouldn't?
Every time you warm yourself in front of a hot coal stove, remember the coal miners in the cold dark corridors and pray for them!
I used to get on a stove wood pile at 5-6 years old and I would have a piece of stove wood and kindling bark as a pick, and I was a star.
Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting. . . . Read it a hundred times; it will forever keep its freshness as a metal keeps its fragrance. It can never lose its sense of a meaning that once unfolded by surprise as it went.
When I was alone, I lived on eggplant, the stove top cook's strongest ally. I fried it and stewed it, and ate it crisp and sludgy, hot and cold. It was cheap and filling and was delicious in all manner of strange combinations. If any was left over, I ate it cold the next day on bread.
It was my first day working at Tour d'Argent, a famous restaurant in Paris, in 1982, and they were celebrating their 400th anniversary. I am in the fish station and after many mistakes, including cutting myself after 30 seconds in that kitchen, the chef said, "Make a Hollandaise sauce with 32 yolks." It takes me forever to separate the yolks from the whites, and I put them in a bowl and try to go close to the stove, but the stove is way too hot for me.
Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.
I just . . . knew, the way you know how to breathe or to pull your hand back from a hot stove.
Sometimes if you want to know for sure whether the stove is hot, the only way to find out is to touch it.
Kids only learn that the stove is hot when they put their finger on and they burn it. This, unfortunately, is the limitation of our precious brain.
A child can be taught not to do certain things, such as touch a hot stove, pull lamps off of tables, and wake Mommy before noon.
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