A Quote by Eva Zeisel

I don't like to design single objects. I like my pieces to have a relationship to each other. They can be mother and child, like the Schmoo salt and pepper shakers, or brother and sister like the Birdie salt and peppers, or cousins, like most of my dinnerware sets.
When I go gray, I'm not going to be able to see it that much. I won't be salt and pepper: I'll be like salt and the white pepper you can buy.
It was like a brother-sister type relationship with all of my cousins. Growing up we were always hanging out together. We all kind of looked after each other like brothers and sisters when we went to school and stuff.
And a mother without children is not a mother at all, and if I am not a mother, than I am nothing. Nothing. I am like sugar dissolved in a glass of water. Or, I am like salt, which disappears when you cook with it. I am salt. Without my children, I cease to exist.
She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope.
We eat the same breakfast every day. We are like robots. I always do two eggs over easy with turkey bacon - we enjoy the taste of it more than pork - and avocado. I carve it all up into a bowl so it's like a slop, and I load it with salt and pepper and Cholula.
I think most people would struggle to define their whole relationship with just one label - like: my girlfriend, boyfriend, brother, sister, confidantes, whatever - but in those moments, there's true joy in each other.
I made some salt and pepper shakers a while back and waited three years for them to come.
We talk about America as a melting pot, where you can't turn salt into pepper. Then you got too much pepper. You need the salt. You need the paprika. You need the broth.
Like skateboarders, writers live by rejection; like writers, any skater worth his salt must have the single-minded tenacity of a wiener dog.
Rush like a river from the highest mountain, drink from the fountain and stop your counting. What kind of wine does he have in his tavern, oh so enchanted and sing like a mad man. Mad with the love of a wife for her husband, child or mother, sister or brother... sing for the Most High, sing for no other. We are all notes in this eternal song, God plays his flute and we all dance along.
You as a salt-being, made of salt, go to fathom the depth of the ocean, and in the process you yourself dissolve. A great maharishi once said that true meditation is like this.
I love eating clean. Like for lunch, I'll have a wrap with hummus, avocado, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers and bell peppers with a little bit of olive oil and pink Himalayan salt.
I'm probably borderline OCD. I insist on having all objects at right angles to each other. So a fork has to be at a right angle to the knife on the table. The salt and pepper pots have to be placed close together. Only recently have I started to notice it's a weird way to behave.
Fattier, expensive cuts like prime rib or New York strip are celebratory centerpieces that do best when simply roasted with salt and pepper and served straight away.
Redwoods flourish in fog, but they don't like salt air. They tend to appear in valleys that are just out of sight of the sea. In their relationship with the sea, redwoods are like cats that long to be stroked but are shy to the touch.
I like interacting with fans and I like hearing what they say, but you have to take it all with a grain of salt.
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