Olives Quotes

“Jerusalem! My Love,My Town

I wept until my tears were dry
I prayed until the candles flickered
I knelt until the floor creaked
I asked about Mohammed and Christ
Oh Jerusalem, the fragrance of prophets
The shortest path between earth and sky
Oh Jerusalem, the citadel of laws
A beautiful child with fingers charred
and downcast eyes
You are the shady oasis passed by the Prophet
Your streets are melancholy
Your minarets are mourning
You, the young maiden dressed in black
Who rings the bells at the Nativity Church,
On sunday morning?
Who brings toys for the children
On Christmas eve?
Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrow
A big tear wandering in the eye
Who will halt the aggression
On you, the pearl of religions?
Who will wash your bloody walls?
Who will safeguard the Bible?
Who will rescue the Quran?
Who will save Christ, From those who have killed Christ?
Who will save man?
Oh Jerusalem my town
Oh Jerusalem my love
Tomorrow the lemon trees will blossom
And the olive trees will rejoice
Your eyes will dance
The migrant pigeons will return
To your sacred roofs
And your children will play again
And fathers and sons will meet
On your rosy hills
My town
The town of peace and olives”
― Nizar Qabbani

“And it seemed that my flesh crawled with the gentleness of those glaucous things evoked by the verse. It was as if fingertips, like cut emeralds or fresh olives, were stroking the palm of my hand.”
― Jean Lorrain, Monsieur de Phocas

“Food tastes better when you wear it!”
― Erin Dealey, Deck the Walls: A Wacky Christmas Carol

“I bite the olive again. Again the bitter salt crisp ravishes my tongue. "If this is vanity, vanity let it be." The golden moments flit by and I heed them not. For am I not comfortably seated and eating an olive! Go hang yourself, you who have never been comfortably seated and eating an olive!”
― Mary MacLane, I Await the Devil's Coming

“He knows his olive trees better than he knows his children.”
― Rebecca Helm-Ropelato, How to Live in Italy: Essays on the charms and complications of living in paradise

“Well I've fucked the olives. Not literally I might hasten to add!”
― David Nicholls, One Day

“When life gives you Olives, thou shall wear them as glasses...”
― Olive Skeletor

“The fruit and vegetable stalls were a dazzling mass of color: oranges and tomatoes that we rarely saw in England. Bright lemons and purple onions. Spiky artichokes I had only just learned about at the palace; giant cloves of garlic- wouldn't the queen be horrified to see those? And shiny purple vegetables shaped like fat, bulging cucumbers.
"What are they?" I asked the woman at the stall.
She looked at me as if I was a visitor from the moon. "Aubergine, mademoiselle. You have not tried them? They are very good. We make the ratatouille."
"And those?" I pointed to round red and yellow vegetables that looked so shiny they seemed to made of wax.
"The peppers?" she asked in amazement. "You do not eat peppers where you come from?"
"I've never seen them before," I said.
"Then try," she urged. "And the aubergine, too. They are delicious stuffed."
She shook her head as if I was a creature to be pitied. I bought one of each, and one of the purple onions at her insistence, and went on to the next stall. This one had an array of olives. Olives were a rare luxury in England. I had never tried them personally, but here was a whole stall with olives of varying colors and sizes- fat green ones, slim black ones, some stuffed with something red, others with a white cheese, some in olive oil, some not.”
― Rhys Bowen, Above the Bay of Angels

“An exile of wheat and olives”
― Somayah M. Yahya, Thoughts To Live

“Our trees are the Casaliva olive variety, a special type of olive unique to our northern region. The Casaliva olives produce a beautifully clear, pale green olive oil with the aroma of almonds and a light, fruity taste with hints of herbs and grass. The oil is rare and highly prized for its delicate flavor and gorgeous hue. In Italy, olive oil is used for everything--- cooking, illnesses, beauty treatments. Most nonnas, Nonna Bruna included, firmly believe that there is almost nothing that cannot be solved or at least improved with the application of a little good-quality olive oil. We all grow up with philosophy. Our veins all run with the precious, pale gold.”
― Rachel Linden, The Secret of Orange Blossom Cake