Top 41 Julie Powell Quotes
#1. Maybe if the men in my life weren't always making smart-ass comments, they wouldn't have to worry about bruises so much.
Julie Powell
#2. Cooking saved my life! Sure, there were some miserable moments, but that was sort of the point, to find something challenging and consuming enough to take a place in the center of my life into which was creeping a horrible feeling of stasis and the doom of mediocrity.
Julie Powell
#3. Like the muscles knew from the beginning that it would end with this, this inevitable falling apart ... It's sad, but a relief as well to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence, leaving smooth surfaces instead of bloody shreds.
Julie Powell
#4. These are the times when we aficionados of the gas stove know we are on the side of God.
Julie Powell
#5. Nowadays anyone with a crap laptop and an Internet connection can sound their barbaric yawp, whatever it may be.
Julie Powell
#6. I love that after a day when nothing is sure, and when I say 'nothing' I mean nothing, you can come home and absolutely know that if you add egg yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. It's such a comfort.
Julie Powell
#7. I got my undergrad in Creative Writing, and then I didn't get my Masters in obsession, because I figured I already had that covered.
Julie Powell
#8. The road to hell is paved with leeks and potatoes
Julie Powell
#9. Two years ago, I was a twenty-nine year old secretary. Now I am a thirty-one year old writer. I get paid very well to sit around in my pajamas and type on my ridiculously fancy iMac, unless I'd rather take a nap. Feel free to hate me
I certainly would.
Julie Powell
#10. It did not seem possible, much as he craved the comfort of a woman of intelligence, of humor and balance and perception.
Julie Powell
#11. Everyone knows there are foods that are sexy to eat. What they don't talk about so much is foods that are sexy to make.
Julie Powell
#12. A new enterprise awaits. It hangs before you like fruit on a tree.
Julie Powell
#13. My brother wrote another refrigerator magnet poem, when he was probably nineteen or twenty: 'When the flood comes/ I will swim to a symphony/ go by boat to some picture show/ and maybe I will forget about you.' How did he know way, way back then? How is it I know only now?
Julie Powell
#14. If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is.
Julie Powell
#15. There is a law out there, if not of thermodynamics then of something equally primary and inescapable, that explains why everything from instant messaging to fabulous sex to aspic can in the end be defined as an illustration of the futility of existence. And it really, really sucks.
Julie Powell
#16. Physically it's exhausting to cook every night. Existentially speaking, I have so much more energy having that time to myself in this project, this gift to myself at the end of the day. Even if it didn't go smoothly, it was still a gift.
Julie Powell
#17. But hard bitten cynicism leaves one feeling peevish, and too much of it can do lasting damage to your heart.
Julie Powell
#18. Which just goes to show, I guess, that dinner parties are like everything else - not as fragile as we think they are.
Julie Powell
#19. It's all about the "French Paradox," that much-publicized puzzle of how French people eat all that fatty food and drink tons of wine, yet still manage to be svelte and sophisticated, not to mention cheese-eating surrender monkeys.
Julie Powell
#20. There are dinner parties ruined by guests, and there are dinner parties ruined by hosts, and then there are dinner parties when everyone contributes to the disaster.
Julie Powell
#21. It was 10:30 in the morning and I was already running behind. This is hardly unusual, but it pisses me off every single time.
Julie Powell
#22. I took a bite of lobster meat with rice. It was quite tasty. 'Arguing the morality of slaughter will send you into a tailspin of self-loathing every time.' 'Unless you're a vegan.' 'Uh-huh. But then you're a vegan and you don't count.
Julie Powell
#23. There are times with your friends when you just have to put their whole mess out of your mind for a while.
Julie Powell
#24. For stalker food, Martha Stewart is the woman to go to.
Julie Powell
#25. Without the Project I was nothing but a secretary on a road to nowhere, drifting toward frosted hair and menthol addiction.
Julie Powell
#27. If Daisy Buchanan's laugh is the sound of money, then a gimlet, well executed, is the color of it. It is just the thing when you are feeling impoverished, financially or spiritually.
Julie Powell
#28. So the end may be a long time coming, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have a way of sneaking up on you.
Julie Powell
#29. The nice thing about having a friend who is crazier than you are is that she bolsters your belief in your own sanity.
Julie Powell
#30. Doors are going to open-doors you can't even imagine exist.
Julie Powell
#31. The thing you learn with Potage Parmentier is that "simple" is not exactly the same as easy.
Julie Powell
#32. It's sad, but a relief as well, to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence.
Julie Powell
#33. And I realized that, for this night at least, I didn't much care if anyone was the marrying kind or not - not even me. Who could tell? We none of us knew for sure WHAT kind we were, exactly, but as long as were the kind that could sit around eating together and having a lovely time, that was enough.
Julie Powell
#34. The blog is certainly another tool for writers out there to break their way in. But being a blogger does not make you a great writer.
Julie Powell
#35. There, I was just a secretary-shaped confederation of atoms, fighting the inevitability of mediocrity and decay. But here, in the Juliaverse ... energy was never lost, merely converted from one form to another. Here, I took butter and cream and meat and eggs and I made delicious sustenance.
Julie Powell
#36. I'm the kind of person, who, when bored or unhappy, either drinks myself into oblivion or cooks very unhealthy things; Sally is the kind of person who, when bored or unhappy, goes jogging or cleans the bathroom with a toothbrush or matriculates at rabbinical school.
Julie Powell
#37. When I got home I peered down at the lobster to see how he was doing. The inner plastic bag was sucked tight around him and clouded up. It looked like something out of an eighties made-for-TV movie, with some washed-up actress taking too many pills and trying to off herself with a Macy's bag.
Julie Powell
#38. Sometimes, if you want to be happy, you've got to run away to Bath and marry a punk rocker. Sometimes you've got to dye your hair cobalt blue, or wander remote islands in Sicily, or cook your way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year, for no very good reason.
Julie Powell
#39. The powdered sugar had caramelized and blackened into a sucking tar pit in which my ladyfingers languished like so many sunk mastadons.
Julie Powell
#40. Somewhere along the way, I discovered that in the physical act of cooking, especially something complex or plain old hard to handle, dwelled unsuspected reservoirs of arousal both gastronomic and sexual.
Julie Powell
#41. Julia taught me what it takes to find your way in the world. It's not what I thought it was. I thought it wa all about-I don't know, confidence or will or luck. Those are all some good things to have, no question. But there's something else, somethng that these things grow out of. It's joy.
Julie Powell
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