Top 53 Cider Quotes & Sayings

Here is a kitchen improvement, in return for Peacock. For roasting or basting a chicken, render down your fat or butter with cider: about a third cider. Let it come together slowly, till the smell of cider and the smell of fat are as one. This will enliven even a frozen chicken.

I have wished to see chemistry applied to domestic objects, to malting, for instance, brewing, making cider, to fermentation and distillation generally, to the making of bread, butter, cheese, soap, to the incubation of eggs, &c.

I adopted a healthier diet. I take at least a tablespoon of apple-cider vinegar a day. It's an old wives' tale, but it really is one of the best things you can put in your mouth.

I don't really do anything too crazy for beauty. I try to take a shot of apple cider vinegar a day.

She wondered: How could people respond to these images if images didn't secretly enjoy the same status as real things? Not that images were so powerful, but that the world was so weak. It could be read, certainly, in its weakness, as on days when the sun baked fallen apples in orchards and the valley smelled like cider, and cold nights when Jordan had driven Chadds Ford for dinner and the tires of her Chevrolet had crunched on the gravel driveway; but the world was fungible only as images. Nothing got inside the head without becoming pictures.

We all know about the car breaking down on a deserted road scenario. That's cliché. I'm thinking more of Cider with Rosie, as in, the dark side.

I'll squeeze the cider out of your adam's apple.

Yes, cider and tinned salmon are the staple diet of the agricultural classes.

I'm an all-things-in-moderation kind of person. I do eat a warm donut occasionally. I especially enjoy a cider donut when I'm apple picking. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

You may be right. I think it was round about Christmas when I got my Welsh dragon tattoo.” At that, Tessa had to try very hard not to blush. “How did that happen?” Will made an airy gesture with his hand. “I was drunk…” “Nonsense. You were never really drunk.” “On the contrary—in order to learn how to pretend to be inebriated, once must become inebriated at least once, as a reference point. Six-Fingered Nigel had been at the mulled cider—“ “You can’t mean there’s truly a Six-Fingered Nigel?

I keep bees, I make all my own booze, from cider to beer to elderflower wines and all that, growing our own food, creating our own energy, making sure that in the future I never have to go with a begging bowl in my hand and won't have to ask the corporations for anything because I'll be able to provide everything I need for myself.

In 1840, William Henry Harrison is the first one to really campaign as a candidate, and the campaigns were totally frivolous. I mean, people were drinking hard cider all day. They were big parades; no one was debating the issues.

We split a bottle of Norman cider. Not everybody sells Norman cider by the bottle.

Peter curled his hands into fists at his sides. 'Kiss me,' he said. She leaned towards him slowly, until her face was too close to be in focus. Her hair fell over Peter's shoulder like a curtain and her eyes closed. She smelled like autumn-like apple cider and slanting sun and the snap of the coming cold. He felt his heart scrambling, caught inside the confines of his own body. Josie's lips landed just on the edge of his, almost his cheek and not quite his mouth. 'I'm glad I wasn't stuck in here alone,' she said shyly, and he tasted the words, sweet as mint on her breath.

The heat of autumn is different from the heat of summer. One ripens apples, the other turns them to cider.

I drink no cider, but feast on Philadelphia beer.

Up until Prohibition, an apple grown in America was far less likely to be eaten than to wind up in a barrel of cider. ("Hard" cider is a twentieth-century term, redundant before then since virtually all cider was hard until modern refrigeration allowed people to keep sweet cider sweet.)

At about the age of ten, my friends and I discovered the joys of sitting in graveyards drinking merrydown cider and kissing and stealing our elder siblings' records.

Use what you have, use what the world gives you. Use the first day of fall: bright flame before winter's deadness; harvest; orange, gold, amber; cool nights and the smell of fire. Our tree-lined streets are set ablaze, our kitchens filled with the smells of nostalgia: apples bubbling into sauce, roasting squash, cinnamon, nutmeg, cider, warmth itself. The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world's oldest performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter.

When I was a little kid, my mother and I used to watch the 'Golden Globes' and I would dress up and she would get sparkling apple cider and we would make a tray of hors d'oeuvres and watch it together. And I would get up and make a pretend speech.

Give me a hot drink, and I'm happy. Hot cider, hot chocolate, coffee... I like all winter beverages!

Some folks of cider make a rout And cider's well enough no doubt When better liquors fail; But wine, that's richer, better still, Ev'n wine itself (deny't who will) Must yield to nappy ale

I make a wonderful cure-all called Four Thieves, just like my mum did. It's cider vinegar, 36 cloves of garlic and four herbs, representing four looters of plague victims' homes in 1665 who had their sentences reduced from burning at the stake to hanging for explaining the recipe that kept them from catching the plague.

I know the look of an apple that is roasting and sizzling on the hearth on a winter's evening, and I know the comfort that comes of eating it hot, along with some sugar and a drench of cream... I know how the nuts taken in conjunction with winter apples, cider, and doughnuts, make old people's tales and old jokes sound fresh and crisp and enchanting.

When I was a little kid, my mother and I used to watch the Golden Globes and I would dress up and she would get sparkling apple cider and we would make a tray of hors doeuvres and watch it together. And I would get up and make a pretend speech.

Never praise your cider or your horse

Cider was my drink because I liked the taste and it made me stupid.

Before the end of December, generally, they experience their first thawing. Those which a month ago were sour, crabbed, and quite unpalatable to the civilized taste, such at least as were frozen while sound, let a warmer sun come to thaw them, for they are extremely sensitive to its rays, are found to be filled with a rich, sweet cider, better than any bottled cider that I know of, and with which I am better acquainted than with wine. All apples are good in this state, and your jaws are the cider-press.

My father did not drink beer. He said he didn't like the taste, and I was prepared to accept that I wouldn't like the taste either. So I stuck to bottled cider.

No sane person, I hope, would accuse me of saying that every Distributist must drink beer; especially if he could brew his own cider or found claret better for his health. But I do most emphatically scorn and scout the vulgar refinement that regards beer as something unseemly and humiliating. And I would shout the name of beer a hundred times a day, to shock all the snobs who have so shameful a sense of shame.

The era of wild apples will soon be over. I wander through old orchards of great extent, now all gone to decay, all of native fruit which for the most part went to the cider mill. But since the temperance reform and the general introduction of grafted fruit, no wild apples, such as I see everywhere in deserted pastures, and where the woods have grown up among them, are set out. I fear that he who walks over these hills a century hence will not know the pleasure of knocking off wild apples.

I have to have lemon and honey. I have to have apple cider vinegar, Braggs. And I have to have either Red Vines or Twizzlers. These things, you know, are the things that help my vocal performance.

I remember learning new words, trying to figure out what common things like cider, finding myself upset that my parents couldn't help me understand this new culture, that it was up to me to interpret for them as well as myself.

For Cider House Rules, I was doing a New England accent.

It was a beautiful bright autumn day, with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.

The tarter the apple, the tastier the cider.

Not all of them, but certainly there's some really, really dramatic differences among apples. And what you learn if you have that number of varieties is you learn which Apple is good for which purpose. So I have a favorite apple for apple pie. It's called Bramley Seedling. It's a old British Apple. I blend a lot of these apples together that make apple cider every year. It's a great hobby, but it's, you know, it takes some time. And it can be frustrating when the Japanese beetles or the gypsy moths come.

By the time of the Civil War, there were many kinds of apples growing across the United States, but most of them didn't taste very good, and as a rule, people didn't eat them. Cider was cheaper to make than beer, and many settlers believed fermented drinks were safer than water. Everyone drank hard cider.

In A Glass of Cider It seemed I was a mite of sediment That waited for the bottom to ferment So I could catch a bubble in ascent. I rode up on one till the bubble burst, And when that left me to sink back reversed I was no worse off than I was at first. I'd catch another bubble if I waited. The thing was to get now and then elated.

Before I began The Cider House Rules, I thought I wanted to write about a father-son relationship that was closer, more conflicted, and ultimately more loving, than most. Then I began to think of a relationship between an old orphanage director and an unadoptable orphan - a kid who goes out into the world and fails and keeps coming back, so that the old guy ends up with someone he's got to keep.

I feel different than I did three years ago, in The Cider House Rules.

For something warm, try adding cinnamon sticks and nutmeg to apple cider simmering on the stove. You'll get the added benefit of making your home smell amazing.

I won an Academy Award for 'The Cider House Rules,' playing an American.

The older I get, the more I become an apple pie, sparkling cider kind of guy.

He Looked and smelt like Autumn's very brother, his face being sunburnt to wheat-colour, his eyes blue as corn-flowers, his sleeves and leggings dyed with fruit-stains, his hands clammy with the sweet juice of apples, his hat sprinkled with pips, and everywhere about him the sweet atmosphere of cider which at its first return each season has such an indescribable fascination for those who have been born and bred among the orchards.

With some cider you can literally taste the spirituality in it.

Give me yesterday's bread, this day's flesh, and last year's cider

I love cooking during Christmas, all smells like the hot apple cider, the hot spiced wine.

Buffalo wings and cider is all I need.

I always go to the Agriculture Building, where they make apple cider popsicles for a dollar.

The winter will be short, the summer long, The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, Tasting of cider and of scuppernong; All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all. The squirrels in their silver fur will fall Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.

My go-to drink in the winter to fight colds and flus is about 3.4 ounces of water mixed with 2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar, lots of cayenne pepper and cinnamon, one lemon, and 1 teaspoon of raw honey.

Everybody thinks I drink beer but I actually like cider!