I would be lying if I said I cut out all dessert. When Im training, I try to satisfy those cravings with a slightly healthier dessert, like a piece of dark chocolate or whipped cream and strawberries. Those are two of my favorites!
I take off my makeup with Ponds cold cream, and then I wash myself with gentle soap and water, and that's it.
Better the fragrant herb of wit and a little cream of affability than all the pretty cups in the world.
Like cellulite creams or hair-loss tonics, capital punishment is one of those panaceas that isn't. Only it costs a whole lot more.
I'm really conscious of the amount of food I eat, but I don't deny myself anything. For example, I have a really big sweet tooth. At the end of the night, if I'm craving ice cream, I might not have the bowl that I would have when I was a kid, but I'll put a couple of scoops in a coffee mug, and I'll eat it slowly, and I enjoy every moment of it.
Boston is the cream of the crop of the marathon world. It has such history that you feel such honor just being a part of it. All the other races have pacers to get you to a Boston qualifying time.
The man who invented Eskimo Pie made a million dollars, so one is told, but E.E. Cummings, whose verse has been appearing off andon for three years now, and whose experiments should not be more appalling to those interested in poetry than the experiment of surrounding ice-cream with a layer of chocolate was to those interested in soda fountains, has hardly made a dent in the doughy minds of our so-called poetry lovers.
On a very rough-and-ready basis we might define an eccentric as a man who is a law unto himself, and a crank as one who, having determined what the law is, insists on laying it down to others. An eccentric puts ice cream on steak simply because he likes it; should a crank do so, he would endow the act with moral grandeur and straightaway denounce as sinners (or reactionaries) all who failed to follow suit. Cranks, at their most familiar, are a sort of peevish prophets, and it's not enough that they should be in the right; others must also be in the wrong.
Only cream and SOBs rise to the top.
I cannot keep myself away from ice cream. I have two flavors that are my favorite: chocolate chip cookie dough and vanilla swiss almond. I can eat a whole pint of ice cream in one sitting, no problem!
...there was the annual Fourth of July picketing at Independence Hall in Philadelphia. ...I thought it was ridiculous to have to go there in a skirt. But I did it anyway because it was something that might possibly have an effect. I remember walking around in my little white blouse and skirt and tourists standing there eating their ice cream cones and watching us like the zoo had opened.
In an interview, Hillary Clinton said she likes nearly every flavor of ice cream. When he heard this, Chris Christie said 'Hey, she stole my speech.'
Do you have any bald ice cream?
Write, if you must; not otherwise. Do not write, if you can earn a fair living at teaching or dressmaking, at electricity or hod-carrying. Make shoes, weed cabbages, survey land, keep house, make ice-cream, sell cake, climb a telephone pole. Nay, be a lightning-rod peddler or a book agent, before you set your heart upon it that you shall write for a living.... Living? It is more likely to be dying by your pen; despairing by your pen; burying hope and heart and youth and courage in your ink-stand.
In entertainment value, the Democratic clambake usually lays it over the Republican conclave like ice cream over parsnips.
Great quotes make the light bulb go off in my mind. If you're like me, you'll jump at the chance to bypass all the churning and scoop the cream right off the top ~ that is what quotes are . . . the cream of our learning!
Today's woman puts on wigs, fake eyelashes, false nails, sixteen pounds of make-up/shadows/blushes/creams, living bras, various pads that would make a linebacker envious, has implants and assorted other surgeries, then complains that she cannot find a 'real' man
If there be any man who thinks the ruin of a race of men a small matter, compared with the last decoration and completions of hisown comfort,--who would not so much as part with his ice- cream, to save them from rapine and manacles, I think I must not hesitate to satisfy that man that also his cream and vanilla are safer and cheaper by placing the negro nation on a fair footing than by robbing them.
The things I care about are the most pedestrian things in the world. I care about good ice cream and being a good dad and a decent husband.
I'm not one of those people who think you should go grey and that there is some virtue in looking wrinkly if you don't feel like it. If you do, great. If you don't, just my only caution is watch out. There are a huge number of wrinkle creams that do nothing for you.
If someone breaks your heart, just punch them in the face. Oh sure, it seems obvious now, but you'd be amazed at how many people don't think of it when it's relevant. Seriously, punch them in the face and go get some ice cream.
My indulgences are Skittles and rum raisin ice cream.
There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; And do a willful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dressed in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity profound conceit; As who should say, I am sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
When you take away the subsistence economy, then your farm population is seriously exposed to the vagaries of the larger economy. As it used to be, the subsistence economy carried people through the hard times, and what you might call the housewife's economy of cream and eggs often held these farms and their families together.
Thankfully, I'm lucky enough to be able to eat ice cream. I've got to have my cookies and cream! But I work out a lot, so I burn a lot of calories.
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