Adversities are important ingredients in the recipe of a great life.

"I have come to see this fear, this sense of my own imperilment by my creations, as not only an inevitable, necessary part of writing fiction but as virtual guarantor, insofar as such a thing is possible, of the power of my work: as a sign that I am on the right track, that I am following the recipe correctly, speaking the proper spells. Literature, like magic, has always been about the handling of secrets, about the pain, the destruction and the marvelous liberation that can result when they are revealed. Telling the truth, when the truth matters most, is almost always a frightening prospect. If a writer doesn't give away secrets, his own or those of the people he loves; if she doesn't court disapproval, reproach and general wrath, whether of friends, family, or party apparatchiks; if the writer submits his work to an internal censor long before anyone else can get their hands on it, the result is pallid, inanimate, a lump of earth. The adept handles the rich material, the rank river clay, and diligently intones his alphabetical spells, knowing full well the history of golems: how they break free of their creators, grow to unmanageable size and power, refuse to be controlled. In the same way, the writer shapes his story, flecked like river clay with the grit of experience and rank with the smell of human life, heedless of the danger to himself, eager to show his powers, to celebrate his mastery, to bring into being a little world that, like God's, is at once terribly imperfect and filled with astonishing life.

We cannot decide to love. We cannot compel anyone to love us. There's no secret recipe, only love itself. And we are at its mercy--there's nothing we can do.

Success for you is a RECIPE that ONLY YOU KNOW the ingredients for.So to you I say ,COOK UP the success that ONLY YOU know how to make and allow the world to see YOUR CREATION!

Why did I, like thousands of others, have to carry a cross I hadn't chosen, a cross which was not made for my shoulders and which didn't concern me? Who decided to come rummaging around in my obscure existence, invade my gray anonymity, my meager tranquility, and bowl me like a little ball in a great game of skittles? God? Well, in that case, if He exists, if He really exists, let Him hide His face. Let Him put His two hands on His head, and let Him bow down. It may be, as Peiper used to teach us, that many men are unworthy of Him, but now I know that He, too, is unworthy of most of us, and that if the creature is capable of producing horror, it's solely because his Creator has slipped him the recipe for it.

if God had intended us to follow recipes, He wouldn't have given us grandmothers.

I've apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It's been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I've found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn't mean I should become somebody completely new and stop loving the things I used to love. It means I've just added more things to my list. Like for example, I'm still beyond obsessed with the winter season and I still start putting up strings of lights in September. I still love sparkles and grocery shopping and really old cats that are only nice to you half the time. I still love writing in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers. But some new things I've fallen in love with -- mismatched everything. Mismatched chairs, mismatched colors, mismatched personalities. I love spraying perfumes I used to wear when I was in high school. It brings me back to the days of trying to get a close parking spot at school, trying to get noticed by soccer players, and trying to figure out how to avoid doing or saying anything uncool, and wishing every minute of every day that one day maybe I'd get a chance to win a Grammy. Or something crazy and out of reach like that. ;) I love old buildings with the paint chipping off the walls and my dad's stories about college. I love the freedom of living alone, but I also love things that make me feel seven again. Back then naivety was the norm and skepticism was a foreign language, and I just think every once in a while you need fries and a chocolate milkshake and your mom. I love picking up a cookbook and closing my eyes and opening it to a random page, then attempting to make that recipe. I've loved my fans from the very first day, but they've said things and done things recently that make me feel like they're my friends -- more now than ever before. I'll never go a day without thinking about our memories together.

I do not know anyone who has got to the top without hard work. That is the recipe. It will not always get you to the top but should get you pretty near.

There is no recipe to be a great teacher that's what is unique about them.

Science means simply the aggregate of all the recipes that are always successful. All the rest is literature.

Just about every children's book in my local bookstore has an animal for its hero. But then only a few feet away in the cookbook section just about every cookbook includes recipes for cooking animals. Is there a more illuminating illustration of our paradoxical relationship with the nonhuman world?

The shoe that fits one person pinches another there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.

Recipes tell you nothing. Learning techniques is the key.

The recipe for perpetual ignorance is: Be satisfied with your opinions and content with your knowledge.

Cooking with kids is not just about ingredients recipes and cooking. It's about harnessing imagination empowerment and creativity.

I do 280 episodes of TV a year write 15 recipes for the magazine and publish an annual book. With all of that we try to get one weekend a month with Isaboo at our home in the Adirondacks to relax and recharge.

Obviously the easiest recipes are the most successful when it comes to the home cook because they're not intimidated by them. If I'm doing 'Boy Meets Grill ' and I do something very simple like grilled hamburgers or steaks or chicken those are the most sought-after recipes.

Most cooks try to learn by making dishes. Doesn't mean you can cook. It means you can make that dish. When you can cook is when you can go to a farmers market buy a bunch of stuff then go home and make something without looking at a recipe. Now you're cooking.

Shall I give you my recipe for happiness? I find everything useful and nothing indispensable. I find everything wonderful and nothing miraculous. I reverence the body. I avoid first causes like the plague.

I don't have the recipe for happiness but I think the engine is simply having the desire.

A woman's heart must be of such a size and no larger else it must be pressed small like Chinese feet her happiness is to be made as cakes are by a fixed recipe.

The first recipe for happiness is: avoid too lengthy meditation on the past.

Jesus does not give recipes that show the way to God as other teachers of religion do. He is himself the way.

The thing with food is that you can give 20 people the same recipe and the same ingredients and somebody's going to make it better than somebody else and that's the creativity of it. It's like music. You could have a bunch of people playing the same piece and somebody's gonna play it better.