Mickey: Get out of here! Don't ya ever interrupt me while I'm conductin' business. Move your little chicken asses out.
Jim Stark: I didn't chicken. You saw where I jumped. What did I have to do, kill myself?
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: [leading the Reaver fleet straight into the Alliance's, and caught in the middle, trying to get to Mr. Universe] The chicken's come home to roost.
I'm from Manchester, Mass., so it was lobster, lobster and more lobster! Also, lots of fish that we caught in the summers, clam chowder and roast beef sandwiches. But my mom was pretty healthy; we had a lot of chicken and broccoli and rice as well.
I used to eat a whole chicken, every day, for lunch. I did that for four years. But it got tiring - go to the store, buy it, eat it. It's a mess.
I'm focusing on cultivating my land. I have vegetables and fruit trees; I want to get some chickens and solar and really get off the grid and focus on just, really, being a mother.
An inextricable relationship between the foolishness and the selfishness is like that of an egg and a chicken. No one knows which came first and perhaps even none cares about it.
My friend told me later he got the chicken pox. I told him I caught politics and never got over it.
Almost every culture has its own variation on chicken soup, and rightly so - it's one of the most gratifying dishes on the face of the Earth.
Barberries, or zereshk, are tiny dried red fruit with a tremendously sharp flavour. They come from Iran, where they're used to add freshness to rice and chicken dishes.
No one asks the cow or the chicken where it gets its protein. I eat about 4,000 or 5,000 calories a day, and I cook for myself. I also have a line of cooks that work with me - some raw, some vegan.
It was a stretch to imagine that Barbara Walters might want to give it all up for Ed Couch, but Evelyn tried her hardest. Of course, even though she was not religious, it was a comfort to know that the Bible backed her up in being a doormat.
On Sundays Mom invariably ran out of money, which is when she cracked eggs into the skillet over cubes of fried black sourdough bread. It was, I think, the most delicious and eloquent expression of pauperism.
, yeah, it was, like, seminal, but tame by today’s standards. Violet, for instance, did not get her intestines ripped out. There wasn’t any torture, nobody’s liver got fried in a pan, there wasn’t any gang rape. So what’s the fun of that?
I.Q. deficiency. There are some people who are an order of fries short of a Happy Meal, and what is often a characteristic about every one of these people is that they don't know it. They have no idea how incompetent or stupid they are. It's the exac...
The White Hand did not fry all the brain. He fried some from the right hemisphere and some from the left. The remaining brain, The White Hand wrapped in tin foil, carefully. Tomorrow is, after all, another day, and food should be kept in storage so i...
The old adage about giving a man a fish versus teaching him how to fish has been updated by a reader: Give a man a fish and he will ask for tartar sauce and French fries! Moreover, some politician who wants his vote will declare all these things to b...
When I was growing up in Chicago, my family and I used to go to a local chain, Hackney's, for burgers and their French fried onion loaf. I probably haven't been to one in 25 years, and yet, I once saw Donald Trump from behind in an office building an...
We engineered activity out of our lives in the name of convenience. We created foods that put fried, fatty, sweet, and salty ahead of fresh, natural, and healthy. We quickly sacrifice sleep to work longer hours in pursuit of the American Dream. Even ...
Ninny Threadgoode: I'm worried about my little friend Evelyn. She said her husband, Ed, would just be sitting around watching his sports on TV... and she has an urge to hit him in the head with a baseball bat. Janeen: Oh hell, that seems normal to me...
Idgie Threadgoode: There's so many [voice breaking] Idgie Threadgoode: things I want to say to you. Ruth: No, I love your stories. Tell me a story, Idgie. [pause] Ruth: Go on you ol' Bee Charmer, tell me a good tall tale.
