Pumpkin Quotes

“It looks more like a rotting pumpkin.”
― Marissa Meyer, Cinder

“It was time to take the pumpkin out of the pot and eat it. In the final analysis, that was what solved these big problems of life. You could think and think and get nowhere, but you still had to eat your pumpkin. That brought you down to earth. That gave you a reason for going on. Pumpkin.”
― Alexander McCall Smith, The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency

“Anna shuddered. "Orange is not the colour of seduction, Christopher. Orange is the colour of despair, and pumpkins.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“I will defend pumpkin until the day I die. It's delicious. It's healthy. I don't understand the backlash. How did pumpkin become this embarrassing thing to love but bacon is still the cool flavor to add to everything? I don't have anything against bacon; just don't come after pumpkin like it's a crime to love an American staple.”
― Anna Kendrick, Scrappy Little Nobody

“The jack-o-lantern follows me with tapered, glowing eyes.
His yellow teeth grin evily. His cackle I despise.
But I shall have the final laugh when Halloween is through.
This pumpkin king I’ll split in half to make a pie for two.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year

“The pumpkin is a uniquely American plant, widely regarded as one of the most magical plants in all the world.”
― Seth Adam Smith, Rip Van Winkle and the Pumpkin Lantern

“—all I can say of the matter, is—That he has either a pumkin for his head—or a pippin for his heart,—and whenever he is dissected 'twill be found so.”
― Laurence Sterne, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

“The pumpkin itself is a symbol for mortality.”
― Seth Adam Smith, Rip Van Winkle and the Pumpkin Lantern

“Halloween colors, less or more,
are pumpkin, witch, and bloody gore.”

“You must mean orange, black, and red.”

“Indeed, that’s what I said.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“The pumpkin itself is a symbol for mortality. Like mortals, the pumpkin seed is planted in the darkness of the earth, where it is left to search for the light. When the plant finally sprouts, it travels along the ground, as if in search of its place in the world. Then, once the pumpkin has found its place, it blossoms into a fruit that towers above all others. And when the pumpkin is ripe, it's a veritable life-giving force.”
― Seth Adam Smith, Rip Van Winkle and the Pumpkin Lantern

“What do Halloween creatures eat?
Hot spider soup with pumpkin meat
and toasted, no-salt, bat-wing chips,
served best with Transylvania dips.
A thistle-horehound salad mix
has added crunch from sun-dried ticks.
The plat du jour is hairy beast
fried crisp in grimy goblin grease.
Now, don’t forget dessert so sweet;
try puss-cream pie or candied feet!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“There will be a cauldron of spiced hot cider, and pumpkin shortbread fingers with caramel and fudge dipping sauces as our freebies, and I've done plenty of special spooky treats. Ladies' fingers, butter cookies the shape of gnarled fingers with almond fingernails and red food coloring on the stump end. I've got meringue ghosts and cups of "graveyard pudding," a dark chocolate pudding layered with dark Oreo cookie crumbs, strewn with gummy worms, and topped with a cookie tombstone. There are chocolate tarantulas, with mini cupcake bodies and legs made out of licorice whips, sitting on spun cotton candy nests. The Pop-Tart flavors of the day are chocolate peanut butter, and pumpkin spice. The chocolate ones are in the shape of bats, and the pumpkin ones in the shape of giant candy corn with orange, yellow, and white icing. And yesterday, after finding a stash of tiny walnut-sized lady apples at the market, I made a huge batch of mini caramel apples.”
― Stacey Ballis, Wedding Girl

“Pumpkin compote in a masa shell," she says. "It's a new recipe I'm going to try this week."
"So, a pumpkin tamale? You know you can just call it a pumpkin tamale. Nobody's going to be impressed because you used some fancy words."
Her mouth turns down. "Thank you for the editorial. Just try it."
I take a bite. It's good. Better than I expected. The balance of cinnamon and nutmeg is perfect, a hint of allspice. And some ingredient I can't place. Almost... coppery? But it works.”
― Rebecca Roanhorse, Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

“Bat, fly high.
Pumpkin, sit.
Black cat, cry.
Spider, knit.
Wicken, chant.
Phantom, moan.
Mummy, rant.
Zombie, groan.
Werewolf, howl.
Owl, hoot.
Goblin, growl.
Pirate, loot.
Skeleton,
Frankenstein,
Curse the sun.
Poem, rhyme.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“There were things that Pumpkin Head—now not Pumpkin Head anymore—had to do to be a girl. He had to be careful how he dressed, and how he acted. He had to be careful how he talked, and he always had to be calm. He was very frightened of what would happen if he didn't stay calm. For his face was really just a wonderful plastic one. The real Pumpkin Head was still inside, locked in, waiting to come out.”
― Al Sarrantonio, 13 Horrors of Halloween

“Ah, furchte fruchte, timid Danaides! Ena milo melomon, frai is frau and swee is too, swee is two when swoo is free, ana mala woe is we! A pair of sycopanties with amygdaleine eyes, one old obster lumpky pumpkin and three meddlars on their slies.”
― James Joyce

“...flames moved towards him
and dropped within
-
singed and marred
his tender skin ...

(the frightful plight tale)”
― muse, Enigmatic Evolution

“Chapter Eleven

She did not spend long in the supermarket at Riverwalk, confining her purchases to supplies she would need for the next few days. There was beef for stew, a large pumpkin, a packet of beans, a dozen eggs, and two loaves of bread. The pumpkin looked delicious—almost perfectly round and deep yellow in colour, it sat on the passenger seat beside her so comfortably as she drove out of the car park, so pleased to be what it was, that she imagined conducting a conversation with it, telling it about the Orphan Farm and Mma Potokwane and her concerns over Mma Makutsi. And the pumpkin would remain silent, of course, but would somehow indicate that it knew what she was talking about, that there were similar issues in the world of pumpkins.

She smiled. There was no harm, she thought, in allowing your imagination to run away with you, as a child’s will do, because the thoughts that came in that way could be a comfort, a relief in a world that could be both sad and serious. Why not imagine a talk with a pumpkin? Why not imagine going off for a drive with a friendly pumpkin, a companion who would not, after all, answer back; who would agree with everything you said, and would at the end of the day appear on your plate as a final gesture of friendship? Why not allow yourself a few minutes of imaginative silliness so that you could remember what it was like when you believed such things, when you were a child at the feet of your grandmother, listening to the old Setswana tales of talking trees and clever baboons and all the things that made up that world that lay just on the other side of the world we knew, the world of the real Botswana.

Mma Ramotswe”
― Alexander McCall Smith, The Woman Who Walked in Sunshine

“I’m sensitive. I’m nothing but a big ball of mushy sensitive stuff inside. Tell her, pumpkin.”

“Your son is very sensitive,” I dutifully recited.

“That didn’t sound believable.” He gently tugged on a strand of my hair, moving in closer. “My feelings are hurt. You’ve wounded me. Kiss it better.”

“Apologies.” I gave him a brief but sweet kiss on the lips.

“That the best you got?” He rubbed his lips against mine, trying to lure me in deeper. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I think you can do much, much better than that. Why, you missed my mouth entirely.”
― Kylie Scott, Play

“Kje naj se razsvetlim? je vprašala buča.”
― Iva Jevtić, Težnost

“She's got that nervous energy that spawns anytime you're about to share something you love with someone and are suddenly thinking of all of its flaws you're usually indifferent to.”
― Julie Murphy, Pumpkin

“Even though Clover City feels like one big joke sometimes, it's my joke. My charming joke of a town that thrives on beauty pageants and dance teams and a football team that couldn't figure out how to win a game if the other team had forfeited, but underneath it all, it's more than that small-town stereotype. It's a shithole. But it's my little shithole.”
― Julie Murphy, Pumpkin

“When the world isn't selling what you're looking to buy, you just have to take it upon yourself to cut your own pattern.”
― Julie Murphy, Pumpkin

“My body contains me and that’s enough”
― Julie Murphy

“Why not imagine a talk with a pumpkin? Why not imagine going off for a drive with a friendly pumpkin, a companion who would not, after all, answer back; who would agree with everything you said, and would at the end of the day appear on your plate as a final gesture of friendship?”
― Alexander McCall Smith, The Woman Who Walked in Sunshine

“Ian held the serving dish while Helen carefully placed on each white plate five squares of ravioli no thicker than paper, their edges crinkled, their surfaces kissed with melted butter, scattered with bits of shallots and hazelnuts, like rice thrown at a wedding.
They each took their places at the table. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone," Lillian said, raising her glass.
They sat for a moment, simply looking. The smell from their plates rose with the last bits of steam, butter releasing whispers of shallots and hazelnuts. Antonia raised a bite to her mouth. A quick crunch of hazelnut, and then the pasta gave way easily to her teeth, the pumpkin melting across her tongue, warm and dense, with soft, spicy undercurrents of nutmeg.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The School of Essential Ingredients

“Seven extra grams of grated nutmeg makes all the difference. Best cinnamon-streusel pumpkin muffin ever. Or at least so far." I opened my eyes, making a slow assessment of my kitchen. Four other batches of pumpkin muffins littered the countertop, many of them on their sides after I took one bite and impatiently tossed them aside. This batch, the fifth, was the queen of the bunch.
"I do have some reservations about the pecans." My fluffy panda-head slippers slapped on the wood floors as I walked back to the oven. Holding my butter-smudged working recipe up to the light, I considered the next round of alterations. "I wonder about almonds. Or no! Pistachios!”
― Kimberly Stuart, Sugar

“Behind the counter, I placed the pre-sliced pumpkin cheesecake with caramel pecan topping into the refrigerated glass display case. My cheesecakes were a thing of beauty. The delicate, spicy ginger-cookie crust gave the bottom a nice firm bite at the end of the airy whipped cream-cheese filling. It boggled my mind as to why people only indulged in delicious pumpkin once a year. Not at our diner. You could get a cup of pumpkin-and-black-bean soup with lump crabmeat or shrimp, or a spiced pumpkin muffin, on certain days of the week throughout the year. We attempted to rotate our daily offerings to keep them fresh and desirable.”
― Kate Young, Southern Sass and a Crispy Corpse

“November 1st, All Saints Day,
Dawned crisp and bright,
Golden leaves and burned-out husks of fireworks,
Lay strewn in the grass by the smouldering bonfire.”
― Stewart Stafford

“We stuck with the traditional Äpple Munk and the favorite munkhål, but we also added a seasonal one I'd been working on in Mrs. Bixler's room during this dramatic lull in school-apple leftovers. I'd perfected a pumpkin cream cheese filling to go with a cinnamon sugar coating. It was like if pumpkin pie and donuts had a baby, and that baby turned out to be the Chosen One from the prophecy. Pumpamunk.”
― Jared Reck, Donuts and Other Proclamations of Love