| Author |
Quotes |
| Alexander Pope | The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg. |
| David Garrick | Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends us cooks. |
| F G MacBeath | Digestion, much like Love and Wine, no trifling will brook: His cook once spoiled the dinner of an Emperor of men; The dinner spoiled the temper of his Majesty and then The Emperor made history--and no one blamed the cook. |
| Francois Rabelais | A crier of green sauce. |
| Hannah Glasse | To make a ragout, first catch your hare. |
| John Dryden | Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost. |
| Marcus Valerius Martialndex | I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook flogged. |
| Marcus Valerius Martialndex | A cook should double one sense have: for he Should taster for himself and master be. |
| Marcus Valerius Martialndex | If your slave commits a fault, do not smash his teeth with your fists; give him some of the biscuit which famous Rhodes has sent you. |
| Matthew Prior | I never strove to rule the roast, She ne'er refus'd to pledge my toast. |
| Oliver Goldsmith | "Very well," cried I, "that's a good girl; I find you are perfectly qualified for making converts, and so go help your mother to make the gooseberry bye." |
| Robert Burton | Cookery is become an art, a noble science; cooks are gentlemen. |
| Thomas Heywood | Her that ruled the rost in the kitchen. |
| Unattributed Author | Great pity were it if this beneficence of Providence should be marr'd in the ordering, so as to justly merit the Reflection of the old proverb, that though God sends us meat, yet the D------ does cooks. |
| Unattributed Author | Every investigation which is guided by principles of nature fixes its ultimate aim entirely on gratifying the stomach. |
| John Milton | Of herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses. |
| William Shakespeare | Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds. |
| William Shakespeare | Would the cook were o' my mind! |
| William Shakespeare | She would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. |
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