A Quote by Rachel Khoo
Children love cupcakes and so do I - a good one makes the perfect afternoon pick-me-up.
Related Quotes
My guilty pleasure is vanilla cupcakes! I love cupcakes! I love cupcakes. When it's really bad, it's 12 per day. I've fallen asleep with cupcake in my mouth, like, frosting all over my mouth. More than - several times.
The bottom line is that (a) people are never perfect, but love can be, (b) that is the one and only way that the mediocre and the vile can be transformed, and (c) doing that makes it that. Loving makes love. Loving makes itself. We waste time looking for the perfect lover instead of creating the perfect love. Wouldn't that be the way to make love stay?
The one thing I don't consume during 'Today' - which surprises many people - is coffee. I find that a lot of water helps wake me up, without the buzz. I love coffee, but usually reserve a double espresso as an afternoon pick-me-up before settling in to do the weekend 'Nightly News.'
I love feeling strong. You pick up your daughter with ease while everyone else makes a little grunt when they pick up their kids.
I love the idea of getting up early on Sundays and walking to the market to pick up fresh fruits and vegetables. It's a good way to start my day, and it makes me feel like I've accomplished something before other people are even awake.
I don't have to be perfect with my ball-striking, because I have other things that can pick me up, that's been a big confidence boost for me, knowing I don't have to be perfect; I can still contend and have a chance to win.
So I grew up feeling that I wasn't good enough, and that no-one would love me unless I was perfect. But no-one's perfect, we're not meant to be perfect. We're meant to be complete. But it's hard to be complete if you're trying to be perfect, so you kind of become disembodied. And I spent a lot of my life that way.""And if you don't own your strength... Women like me tend to always look over their shoulder to see who... "Who's the leader? Who's the smart one?" Never thinking it might be ME. Took a long time for me to get over that.
The sweetness of dogs (fifteen) What do you say, Percy? I am thinking of sitting out on the sand to watch the moon rise. Full tonight. So we go and the moon rises, so beautiful it makes me shudder, makes me think about time and space, makes me take measure of myself: one iota pondering heaven. Thus we sit, I thinking how grateful I am for the moon’s perfect beauty and also, oh! How rich it is to love the world. Percy, meanwhile, leans against me and gazes up into my face. As though I were his perfect moon.
Hey! Don't laugh at me for that cupcake thing. I enjoy cupcakes, therefore EVERYONE should enjoy cupcakes.
The norm of unconditional parental love, I think, depends on the fact that we don't pick and choose the traits of our children in the way that we pick and choose the features of a car we might order, or a consumer good.
If it bothers me on the page, I don't do it. If it attracts me on the page and moves me, makes me think a bit, makes me laugh, makes me cry, I'm interested in it. If it's there on the page, it means it's there and up to me to bring it out. I have done some films along the way that have been screwed up and not as good as they read. Some films that are not that good on the page turn into good movies. So I'm fallible is what I'm saying.
I love my parents in the way most children would: for having been there at every point in my youth and childhood, ready to pick me up when I fell and support me when I stumbled.
I love to bake, especially cupcakes. I'm really good at it.
None. I think we should send a country some cupcakes. You think some cupcakes would cheer up North Korea? Kill 'em with deliciousness.
Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and *die*. The storybooks are *bullshit*. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and *get* in my bed!
New York City has finally hired women to pick up the garbage, which makes sense to me, since, as I've discovered, a good bit of being a woman consists of picking up garbage.
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