Strawberry Quotes

“Some details in life may look insignificant but appear to be vital leitmotifs in a person's life. They may have the value of "Rosebuds" of Citizen Kane or "Madeleine cookies" of Marcel Proust or "Strawberry fields" of the Beatles. People regularly walk down the memory lane of their early youth. The paper boats of their childhood are recurrently floating on the waves of their mind and bring back the mood and the spirit of the early days. They enable us to retreat from the trivial, daily worries and can generate delightful bliss and true joy in a sometimes frantic and chaotic life. ("Paper boats forever" )”
― Erik Pevernagie

“your gaze
across
my cheeks

turned them
into
strawberry fields.”
― Sanober Khan

“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

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

“I loved rhubarb, that hardy, underappreciated garden survivor that leafed out just as the worst of winter melted away. Not everyone was a fan, especially of the bitter, mushy, overcooked version. Yet sometimes a little bitterness could bring out the best in other flavors. Bitter rhubarb made sunny-day strawberry face the realities of life- and taste all the better for it. As I brushed the cakes with a deep pink glaze made from sweet strawberry and bottled rhubarb bitters, I hoped I would change rhubarb doubters. Certainly, the little Bundt cakes looked as irresistible as anything I had ever seen in a French patisserie.”
― Judith Fertig, The Memory of Lemon

“We fear which we cannot see”
― Tite Kubo, Bleach, Vol. 1

“You taste like
Strawberry stars
On my lips.”
― Melody Lee, Moon Gypsy

“The first strawberry is the sourest.”
― Owllover

“There is a tray full of glass sundae dishes filled with brightly colored ice cream. Strawberry, pistachio, black raspberry. Pink, green, and purple. I like the colors next to each other and wonder what kind of impossible things I can draw about ice cream. Maybe melting rivers of it. And a man with a cone-shaped head sitting in a babana split dish rowing with a spoon.”
― Lynda Mullaly Hunt, Fish in a Tree

“It's too early for strawberries. But the clearing is filled with their leaves and their little white flowers, like fallen stars. The wishing well was covered, too, so that only someone who knew it was there would have really noticed it. It looks like a barrow under the green; somewhere fairies or goblins might live.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief

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

“Don't let the duck soup I made you get cold. It's frozen now, and on a stick, so you'd better lick it while it tastes like strawberries.”
― Jarod Kintz, BearPaw Duck And Meme Farm presents: Two Ducks Brawling Is A Pre-Pillow Fight

“As far as I am concerned, bigotry in strawberry or vanilla flavor is still bigotry.”
― Christina Engela, Demonspawn

“We stand around the tray. Just staring at it. Forever in awe. The chicken fried steak will be just as she remembered it. The biscuits will flake just like they used to. The pecan pie will be sweet and will take her back to those times she sat at the tables just outside the shack on a summer's day. And for once, she'll have fresh strawberry ice cream to go with it.”
― Liza Palmer, Nowhere But Home

“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

“When I return, Charles stands at my station and he says, "Come here. You have to taste this."
I set the bottle down and step up to him. He holds out a berry, but before I can reach for it, he places it in his mouth, half sticking out. He pulls me toward him and raises his brows. I'm so into this. My lips part and we're like human forms of Lady and the Tramp---our lips touching, a quick chew, and our tongues meet. I'm not trembling from fear of the paparazzi anymore but from full-blown lust. When we separate, Charles licks his lips and traces my mouth with his finger. "That was the best damn strawberry I've ever eaten. You're delicious, Kate---”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

“My chocolate strawberry chiffon pie was a hit not to be missed: a chocolate crust filled with a pink strawberry custard studded with bits of fresh strawberry. I will make it again and this time I'll decorate it with sugared basil leaves and strawberry hearts. For my savory pie, I'm making a mixed mushroom filling with fresh herbs and taleggio, encased in a double crust that is studded with fresh rosemary and thyme. To decorate it, I've cut out of rolled an intricate forest scene and affixed it to the top crust with a wash of egg white.”
― Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon

“Over the past four months, she'd been plagued by annoying dreams in which she was chased by a giant, silver-papered cupcake with strawberry frosting. In every dream, the huge cupcake chased her through the tree-lined streets of Dove Pond to the highest point of Hill Street. The dream always ended with her standing alone and terrified in front of the Stewart house.
She might have been able to ignore those dreams, but every time she had one, sometime after the dream ended, strawberry frosting would appear somewhere on her arms or legs. Sometimes it showed up as a plump rose, perfectly made, as if ready for a wedding cake. Sometimes, like just now, it showed up in a long, delicate curlicue. The frosting was always pink, always smelled like strawberry, and was always annoying.”
― Karen Hawkins, The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove

“There, on her fingertips, was a faint slash of strawberry frosting drawn into a tiny heart.
"What's that?" Gray captured her hand and lifted it so the porch light shone on her fingers. "That's strawberry frosting."
She nodded.
"That's my favorite. Every year, for my birthday, Mom bakes me a cake with strawberry frosting."
She looked down at the frosting, her eyes widening. Oh my gosh. It wasn't Angela at all. It was Gray. She closed her hand over the small heart, and her fingers tingled. When she opened her hand, the frosting was gone.”
― Karen Hawkins, The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove

“Berthillon's ice cream is dense and creamy--- served, in keeping with French rules of moderation, in golf-ball-size scoops. You have to be a real purist to order a simple (pronounced samp-le"). I usually ordered a double (doob-le"). Menthe (fresh mint), Créole (rum raisin), and nougat-miel (honey-nougat) are at the top of my list. But as good as the ice cream is, it's the sorbets that are Berthillon's real standouts. I almost always order cacao amer, a bitter chocolate sorbet so dark it's closing in on black. My second scoop depends on the season: pear, melon, rhubarb, or framboise à la rose (raspberry with a hint of rose). But habit often sets in and I go back to my old favorite: fraise des bois (wild strawberry). These tiny gem-like fruits are the equivalent of strawberry grenades, releasing a tart, concentrated flavor that downgrades every other strawberry I've tasted to the level of Bubblicious.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“The road to the strawberry farm was magnificent, lined with cherry trees in full flower. Red earth, blue sky, and, in between, the shimmering movement of millions of white blossoms shaking softly in the breeze. The strawberry man was, as Angela would put it, "a thinking woman's crumpet"--- late twenties with a dark crew cut, tanned shoulders, and firm but not gaudy muscles on display in a dusty green tank top. I had a brief image of some kind of calendar: Sexy Farmers of Provence. Hello, Mr. May.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“Turns out there are cultural differences even in ice cream. Gwendal thinks our freshly churned strawberry ice cream doesn't have enough fruit to bear that name; I think it's heavenly. Apparently the French like their strawberry in the form of a hot-pink sorbet. I prefer this, dense and creamy. The taste of the raw milk--- even after a whirl in the pasteurizer--- really comes through. I'd like to congratulate the cows. The color is the faintest blush of pink studded with chunks of ripe red strawberry that resist under your teeth.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“Wicklow's Bounty: Ode to the Irish Strawberry by Stewart Stafford

The Garden County's ruby hue;
Juicy gush with tart aftertaste,
Seeded cream teases the palate,
A Summer afternoon without haste.

Eireann's pride swallowed so well;
Sunburst flesh, chilled bitterness,
Enveloped in richest dairy pillows,
Feel the divine fingerprint finesse.

Amass nature's brief treasures,
Don't wait, dear brother/sister,
Before frosted breath chokes,
Turning land's song into a whisper.

© 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford