The Quote Garden

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 Est. 1998




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Quotations about Nuts & Seeds



O, the joys of nutting! The clusters hang high,
But the crook brings the branches anear...
We strip the bold clusters and set the branch free,
And deem we have all its nuts shaken;
But others pop out 'neath the leaves, we can see,
So we own we are somewhat mistaken.
~James Rigg, "Nutting Time," Wild Flower Lyrics and Other Poems, 1897


The mug of cider simmered slow,
The apples sputtered in a row,
And close at hand the basket stood,
With nuts from brown October's wood.
~John Greenleaf Whittier, "A Winter's Evening"


Christmas dinner ended with a struggle to crack the nuts. Hazel and almond, brainy walnuts and sleek Brazils. ~Derek Jarman (1942–1994), "How Now Brown Cow," Chroma: A Book of Colour — June '93, 1994


The hickory nuts drop off the trees
And make a fellow think he sees
The woods a-sheddin' of their tears
A-thinkin' of the passing years...
~Kimball Chase Tapley, "Gettin' Along," 1800s  [a little altered —tg]


Sighed the squirrel, "B-r-r-r! Ai-choo! I think I'm going to have a chill. You haven't any hazelnut pills, have you? That's what squirrels take to cure the ague. Or if you could give me a glass of hot peanutade." ~Rupert Hughes, The Fairy Detective, 1910


My children had whole-grain sandwiches laced with peanut butter so thick they couldn't talk for an hour after eating. ~Ethel Pochocki (1925–2010), “Still Acceptably Quaint, But Flirting With ‘Odd,’” 1996


Peanut butter should be used sparingly and judiciously. No one enjoys, as one man expressed it, "that everlasting peanut flavor in everything." ~Evora Bucknum Perkins, The Laurel Health Cookery, 1911


A NIGHTMARE:  Lost in the Sahara, dying of thirst and completely surrounded by mountains of peanut-butter sandwiches. ~Harvard Lampoon, 1926


I think the two most beautiful words in the English language are chocolate macadamia. ~John Mariani, "The Seasoned Cook: How Italians Say Shanks," Esquire, 1987


Here is a Southerner, graceful and slim,
In flavor no nut is quite equal to him.
Ha, Monsieur Pecan, you know what it means
To be served with black coffee in French New Orleans.
~Pearl Rivers, "Little Nut People," in St. Nicholas, 1892


The bes' time in the year for boys is when it's hickory nuttin'—
There's been a frost an' all the hulls is openin' an' shuttin'
An' winkin' at the squirrels that just jumps round an' chatters
An' scoots about a mile away when "plop!" a bit nut clatters.
Us boys is glad on Saturdays—we're off of all our studies.
I wouldn't trade my fun that day for yours or anybody's!
~Wilbur D. Nesbit, "Hickory Nuttin'," c.1904


As for us boys, it was our privilege to go to the big pasture along the brook where the butternut trees grew, and there we filled bags with the nuts and brought them home on our shoulders. Perhaps you have never tasted a butternut pudding. "Come," said the sunshine, "and see what I will do for you. I will mingle oil and sugar and the juices of the trees in exact proportions, and you shall see." And so came about the butternut, the cream of the nut creation. The taste of butternut pudding is one of the seven perfect tastes of the world. And so we cracked the nuts, and we sucked our fingers where the blisters followed, and we patted our stomachs, and never stopped eating pudding and butternuts, except for an apple or two. ~Edward Payson Powell (1833–1915), "An Old-Time Thanksgiving," 1904  [a little altered —tg]


Those swarthy hazel-clusters, seamed and chapped,
Or filberts russet-sheathed and velvet-capped...
~Robert Browning, Sordello, 1840


One block, pure green as a pistachio-nut... ~Robert Browning, "The Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church (Rome, 15—)," 1845


Pumpkin seeds like cold sea blooms bring me dreams... ~Algernon Swinburne (1837–1909), "In the Pumpkin"


Walnuts the fruiterer's hand, in autumn, stain,
Blue plums and juicy pears augment his gain...
~John Gay, Trivia: or, The Art of Walking the Streets of London, 1716


"It is," repeated Monsieur Mutuel, his amiable old walnut-shell countenance very walnut-shelly indeed as he smiled and blinked in the bright morning sunlight... Being told by one of the angelic sex to continue his morning walk and get out, he laughed a walnut-shell laugh, pulled off his cap... and continued his morning walk and got out, like a man of gallantry as he was. ~Charles Dickens, "Somebody's Luggage," 1862


Almonds stand at the head of the nut family. ~Evora Bucknum Perkins, The Laurel Health Cookery, 1911


Oh, palatial pecans!... brilliant Brazil nuts!... fashionable filberts!... welcome walnuts!... hysterical hickory-nuts!... aggravating almonds! ~Rupert Hughes, The Fairy Detective, 1910


Trees bend down with plum and pear,
Rosy apples scent the air,
Nuts are ripening everywhere.
~Mrs. Hawtrey, "Autumn," 1800s


"Prickly as a porcupine, round as a ball
When Jack Frost tickles me, I laugh until I fall."
      "What's that?" asked Mary.
      "Who's that?" asked Bobby.
      "That's a chestnut," said a voice.
      "Well whoever you are why don't you answer our questions?" asked Mary.
      "I answered both your questions and the riddle all at once," said the voice. "You see I am the chestnut tree talking to you and the riddle is so old it's called a chestnut and chestnut is the answer to the riddle."
      "Gee whiz," said Bobby. "You sure can talk in shorthand."
      "But what did you mean about Jack Frost tickling you?" asked Mary.
      "Why don't you know that chestnuts never fall until after the frost? All the squirrels know that. Jack Frost comes around in the fall and tickles my ribs. Then I shake all over and the chestnuts drop off and then he tickles all the chestnuts until they just burst their burrs laughing and that leaves the feast all ready... Lots of the forest folk like chestnuts. There are the squirrels and the old black bear and the chipmunks and even the deer, to say nothing of boys and girls. This is the happiest time of year for me," and the big gray trunked tree laughed again and shook its branches while a few brown leaves and chestnuts rattled down to the ground. ~Uncle Mike, Railway Carmen's Journal, 1925


      The fruiterers' shops were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were pears and apples clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers' benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks among the woods, and pleasant shufflings ankle deep through withered leaves; there were Norfolk Biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten after dinner.
      The Grocers'! oh, the Grocers'! The blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, the raisins so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint. The figs were moist and pulpy; the French plums blushed in their modest tartness from their highly-decorated boxes. ~Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, 1843  [a little altered —tg]


I am carried back to the September and October days at home — such beautiful days— when the skies are so clear and blue, and the air so mild, and everything so still you can hear the pecans as they drop of their own accord down into the heaps of dead leaves — great sycamore leaves, and crimson gum leaves, and russet cottonwood leaves, that all fall so early and pile up so thick that, unless you go down upon your knees in the clean, sweet-smelling heaps, you will never find half the precious nuts hidden away under them. And all about the crowns of the trees the greedy crows are circling and cawing — they love pecans as well as anybody — and the branches are alive with squirrels, little red and gray and black thieves, who are so afraid of not getting their full share that they drop as many nuts as they devour; but the turkeys know the crows' and squirrels' careless tricks, so around and about they stalk, stately and patient, till their share falls at their feet. ~Jeannette Hadermann Walworth, "A Very Handsome Animal," True to Herself, 1888





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published 2011 Jul 4
revised 2020 Jun 27
last saved 2024 Sep 8
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