Strawberries Quotes

“Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It'll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields... and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

“There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you

sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates.”
― Edwin Morgan, The Second Life: Selected Poems

“Over the fence—
Strawberries— grow—
Over the fence—
I could climb— if I tried, I know—
Berries are nice!

But— if I stained my Apron—
God would certainly scold!
Oh, dear, — I guess if He were a Boy—
He'd— climb— if He could!”
― Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

“It has been many years since I have eaten freely at my choice, fair one, and a plate of strawberries is all that I desire." - Mark Blackthorn”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“Her lips are like strawberries which tickels my taste buds everytime, making me to kiss her red lips everytime.”
― Vishal Antapurkar

“Strawberries are full of love & happiness.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“Figs are delicious with soft cheese and ham,
Toast is quite scrumptious with butter and jam,
Eggs are improved by parsley and salt,
But milkshakes are best with strawberries and malt.”
― Angelica Banks, Finding Serendipity

“Caroline, beside herself, dragged me down to her, her breast was against mine, and by a circular movement seemed to caress it. The pretty strawberries which crowned her breasts, jealous at meeting others as fair, endeavoured to engage them in combat.”
― Félicité Choiseul-Meuse

“The first strawberry is the sourest.”
― Owllover

“He’d never forgotten the sweep of her soft mouth against his, the taste of her sweetness, like strawberries, and the way she fired his insides to life.”
― Katherine McIntyre, Waking for Winter

“She couldn't see the homemade colored sprinkles, the tender yellow cake, or the pale pink frosting made with strawberry syrup enhanced with a little rosewater. Although our local strawberries weren't in season yet, I had conjured the aroma and taste of juicy berries warmed by the sun. I hoped this flavor would help the two old people return once more to their youth and the carefree feeling of a summer day.”
― Judith Fertig, The Cake Therapist

“Close to the stem, he said, closest to the earth, their perfume is complex, not sugar: closer to flesh, the flesh of a loved one, not sanitized, not anodyne, but full of many waters. Strawberries and spring, strawberries and musk, strawberries and sex flooded back as I crushed my tongue to sugar.”
― C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

“And there by the door was a big piece of some kind of woven fabric, neatly framed and under glass, with a pattern of blue leaves and vines and speckled birds and little white flowers, and everything so close and tight that it played with my eyes and made me squint. And the funny thing was, I was almost sure I'd seen that pattern somewhere before...
For a minute I looked at it, trying to work out the design. The leaves looked a bit like strawberry-leaves, and there were strawberries in there too, which made me think of my strawberry wood, grown dark and strange under the glass. But there were so many things in there, so many shapes and colors, that it was hard to focus. And the pattern kept repeating, so that it looked like the birds were moving; chasing each other through the leaves, and flowers, and briars, and bunches of strawberries.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief

“Chocolate makes my strawberries quiver in anticipation.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“Strawberries sat abandoned in the fields by season's end, so ripe as to be barely solid, warm as heart's blood. Ambrosia, they call that variety, the food of gods. But the hubris of excess has mortal consequences. You can go blind, mad, drown in red. The second nature of strawberries is a sugar that turns to rot.
They reappeared one by one as I vomited, shapeless and no longer sweet, those little, used, red hearts.”
― C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

“I shake my head at his largesse, and I frown as a scene from Tess crosses my mind: the strawberry scene. It evokes my dream. To hell with Dr. Flynn—Freud would have a field day—and then he’d probably die trying to deal with Fifty Shades.”
― E L James

“For being so early in the season, the tables on either side of the street were heavily laden with produce. I could see English peas, asparagus, arugula, several varieties of chard, kale, rhubarb, radishes... My mouth tingled as I walked slowly from booth to booth, drinking in the knowledge that the food I was checking out had not been trucked over the Jersey Turnpike or from a far-flung spot upstate, but from somewhere nearby, where people still felt dirt in their hands and not just in their nostrils after a day of walking in the city.
I paused at the end of a block, and my gaze zeroed in on a mountain of gorgeous strawberries a few stands down. Cutting in and out of the throng, I reached the stand and stood under a banner that read FORSYTHIA FARMS. I crouched to be eye level with the berries, narrowing my eyes at their color, shape, and size. The red was deep, but still bright. Shape: irregular, as they should be, and still shooting delightful stems that poked out the tops like tiny berets. The berries weren't too small, and best of all, not too large. No Costco mutants, I was pleased to note.”
― Kimberly Stuart, Sugar

“I fell in love with the girl who fell in line for one serving of strawberries," he admitted. A series of thoughts swirl around Miguel’s head of the girl waiting in line with one medium-sized tub of strawberries. The image of it. He asked: “Was it her persistence of wanting the fruit? Was it the youthfulness of the fruit? Was it the mystery of wondering how she’d eat them—on the grass outside or at home or in the car? Why? Was it wanting to know if she felt stupid herself for waiting in such a long line? Or wanting to know if she at any point felt like abandoning the line? Was it the simplicity of someone who knows what they want? The pleasantness of going to the market and not being seduced by other treats? Was it her patience?” Charm is so dissatisfying.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, The Goodbye Song

“Susan turns her attention to strawberries. They're easier. Who doesn't like a strawberry? And they're excellent right now: a cold, damp spell in May delayed the season, but the more recent, prolonged good weather means they're exploding all over, rich and sweet. She's trying them out on a cloudy pavlova flavored with pink peppercorns, mixing the strawberries with mint and lemony sauce.”
― Brianne Moore, All Stirred Up

“vanilla, chocolate, strawberry (for some unfair reason according to strawberry it is always third in that list)”
― J.S. Mason, A Dragon, A Pig, and a Rabbi Walk into a Bar...and other Rambunctious Bites

“Strawberries should be admired, not eaten.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

“So Beaujolais is like this hybrid---a red that drinks like a white, we even put a chill on it. Maybe that's why it has trouble, it doesn't quite fit. No one takes Gamay seriously---too light, too simple, lacks structure. But..." I swirled the glass and it was so... optimistic. "I like to think it's pure. Fleurie sound like flowers doesn't it?"
"Girls love flowers," she said judiciously.
"They do." I put her wine down, then moved it two inches closer to her, where I knew the field of her focus began. "None of that means anything. It just speaks to me. I feel invited to enjoy it. I get roses."
"Child, what is wrong with you? There's no roses in the damn wine. Wine is wine and it makes you loose and helps you dance. That's it. The way you kids talk, like everything is life or death."
"It's not?"
"You ain't even learned about living yet!"
I thought about buying wine. About how I would scan the different Beaujolais crus at the liquor store---the Morgan, the Côte de Brouilly, the Fleurie would be telling me a story. I would see different flowers when I looked at the labels. I thought about the wild strawberries dropped off from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm just that afternoon and how the cooks laid out paper towels and sheet trays in the kitchen, none of them touching, as if they would disintegrate, their fragrance euphoric.”
― Stephanie Danler, Sweetbitter

“Elijah had roasted duck confit legs in toasted, ground coriander, cumin, and chili; he'd paired it with a strawberry and pink peppercorn gastrique sauce drizzled overtop and dotted on the platter. He'd baked walnut, ramp, and queso fresco financiers in small round molds and topped each of them with a strawberry flower. He'd colored more of his homemade queso fresco---one of Penelope's recipes---with beet powder, which he'd molded into spheres, dotted with nigella seeds, and topped with strawberry stems to approximate the look of strawberries while adding a creamy element to the dish. To punctuate the strawberry-patch appearance further and add another contrast, he'd scattered pickled half-ripe strawberry cubes, more strawberry blossoms, and tiny, fragrant yellow and red alpine strawberries across the plate. Shards of sumptuous, crispy duck skin finished the plate.”
― Jennieke Cohen, My Fine Fellow

“She opened the fridge and took out butter and eggs and left them on the worktop. She filled the cups of four muffin trays with pink paper liners decorated with red and white hearts. She refused to dwell on the fact that Sunday was Valentine's Day, and that whichever customers bought one or more of her special sweetheart cupcakes tomorrow (strawberry center, white chocolate icing, sugar-paste heart on top) would in all likelihood be spending Valentine's Day with someone they loved, and who loved them back.”
― Roisin Meaney, Semi-Sweet

“The German chocolate cake was easy. So was the vanilla buttercream. But the strawberry shortcake gave me fits. Turns out, the final fix came when I baked a fresh strawberry in the middle of a vanilla sour-cream batter instead of strawberry batter with chunks of strawberries.”
― Linda Francis Lee, The Glass Kitchen

“She keeps walking, so I keep following, making our way down a stone path that leads to a set of tiered gardens. It is magical back here, garden after garden, the first filled with herbs like Mama grows, rosemary and lavender and mint and sage. Beyond that is a rose garden. There must be fifty rosebushes in it, all with different-colored blooms. We keep walking, down to the third tier, where there are tended beds like Daddy's vegetable patch in our backyard.
"Look at this," Keisha says. She stands beside row upon row of little green plants with thick green leaves. She kneels beside one of them and pulls back a leaf. There are small red strawberries growing underneath. She picks one and hands it to me. I've never eaten a strawberry that tastes like this before. It's so rich, with juice like honey. It's nothing like the ones Mama buys at Kroger.”
― Susan Rebecca White, A Place at the Table

“I have a car to drop us off." He pointed to a sleek, black Escalade, and a uniformed driver leaped out to open the doors.
Ken leaned over and whispered, "Nice touch." Grace wondered when the last time was that New London had seen a chauffeur. Von must have booked the service through Green Bay. He always did know how to make the grand gesture. Like when he'd brought her three dozen pink roses to match her rose-colored chiffon prom dress. And then there was the crowning touch, a small box of fresh strawberries dipped in his family's legendary Vasser chocolate. She could still practically taste the berries, ripe and sweet, with the contrast of the bittersweet dark chocolate.”
― Sandra Lee, The Recipe Box

“L'AMUSE-BOUCHE
Strawberry Gazpacho served in Chinese Spoons, garnished with Deep-Fried Goat Cheese and Basil


L'ENTRÉE
Zucchini Cakes with Lemon Prawns and Braised Wild Asparagus, garnished with Edible Flowers
OU
Cream of Wild Asparagus Soup
OU
Roasted Cauliflower and Beets with Capers, served over Spinach in a White Wine Lemon Sauce


LE PLAT PRINCIPAL
Drunk Shrimp, Flambéed in Cognac, served over a Terrine of Tomatoes, Avocado, Strawberries, and Creamy Lemon Risotto
OU
Confit du Canard, served with Roasted Baby Carrots and Sweet Sautéed Radishes
OU
Bœuf en Croute with Foie Gras and Mushrooms, served with Grilled Wild Asparagus and Sweet Sautéed Radishes


LA SALADE ET LE FROMAGE
Strawberries and Wild Asparagus, served over Arugula with a White Wine Vinaigrette


Selection of the Château's Cheeses


LE DESSERT
Crème Brûlée with a Trio of Strawberries and Cognac”
― Samantha Verant, The Secret French Recipes of Sophie Valroux

“Menu

Amuse-Bouche
Biscotte with a Caviar of Tomatoes and Strawberries


Entrées
Chilled Zucchini Basil and Mint Velouté
Ou
Pan-Seared Foie Gras served on Toast with Grilled Strawberries


Plat Principal
Gigot d'agneau, carved tableside

Served with your choice of Pommes de Terre Sarladaise or
Mille-Feuilles de Pommes de Terre

Served with Greens and Lemon Garlic Shallot Vinaigrette and
Multicolored Braised Baby Carrots
Ou
Lemon Chicken Tajine with Almonds and Prunes

Served with Couscous and Seasonal Vegetables
Ou
Panko-Encrusted Filet de Limande

Served with Wild Rice and Grilled Seasonal Vegetables
Ou
Quinoa, Avocado, and Sweet Potato Timbale (vegan)

Served with Rosemary Potatoes”
― Samantha Verant, Sophie Valroux's Paris Stars

“No, he was -- he was picking strawberries." Moon said.
Qibli stared at her for a moment.
"Evil strawberries?" he asked finally.”
― Tui T. Sutherland, Darkness of Dragons