A Quote by Philip Zimbardo

Coming from New York, I know that if you go by a delicatessen, and you put a sweet cucumber in the vinegar barrel, the cucumber might say, "No, I want to retain my sweetness." But it's hopeless. The barrel will turn the sweet cucumber into a pickle. You can't be a sweet cucumber in a vinegar barrel.
I like a pickled cucumber. A regular cucumber I'm not so interested in.
Cucumber should be well sliced, dressed with pepper and vinegar, and then thrown out.
I have an imagination that will go in any direction it is prodded. I pride myself on being able to become enthusiastic about anything: If you tell me to write a screenplay about cucumber farms, I'll swallow hard, and in 48 hours, I'll be in love with cucumber farms.
In the last analysis, a pickle is a cucumber with experience.
It's funny how cucumber water can taste so much better than pickle juice, even though they come from the same source.
You could pay a fair market price for a barrel of oil and cut 50 cents a barrel or a dollar barrel off what you're going to pay Mexico and use that money and put it towards to the building a wall. If they don't like it, too bad we're go buy the oil.
Relationships are like apples: they can be sweet and satisfying. But once you bite into a bad one, it's hard to go back to the barrel again.
Heaven is a homegrown cucumber
I'm cool as a cucumber, baby.
Sweetness! World needs sweetness! It needs a sweet child, a sweet dolphin, a sweet monkey; it needs sweet people to soften the callous hearts!
In chess, you should be as cool as a cucumber.
The cucumber is bitter? Then throw it out. There are brambles in the path? Then go around. That's all you need to know.
Is your cucumber bitter? Throw it away. Are there briars in your path? Turn aside. That is enough. Do not go on and ay, 'Why were things of this sort ever brought into the world?'
I think Tabasco brings me pure heat and Southern kind of familiarity, along with the vinegar and the barrel-aged spices.
The horse does not eat cucumber salad
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough; Sweet is the eglantine, but stiketh nere; Sweet is the firbloome, but its braunches rough; Sweet is the cypress, but its rynd is tough; Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.
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