French Toast Quotes

Mondays I sleep. I go in at ten, do my lift, watch the game from the day before. Tuesday is off, but I go in, lift, watch film. Then I have French toast with my sister.

Bring you comics in bed, scrape the mold off the bread, and serve you French toast again. Okay, I still get stoned.

I can make the best French toast.

I once went out with this wild girl. She made French toast and got her tongue caught in the toaster.

One of the greatest things I've ever seen happen was the morning I opened the newspaper and it said that some very powerful government officials had decided to change the name of “french fries” to “freedoom fries” and “french toast” to “freedom toast”. It was impressive. I wanted to write a letter to them just to thank them, just for proving globally that they were absolute imbeciles.

The things that you did with parents, whether it was spending every Sunday morning with your dad and eating French toast and watching Popeye, or decorating the Christmas tree with our mother - these are memories that help you be happy.

Even if I'm gone all day, breakfast is the one meal I always cook for my kids. I make French toast, oatmeal, or an egg burrito.

I'm a breakfast type of guy. Don't get me wrong. I can cook, I'm kinda nice on the burner, but I enjoy making breakfast. I do it all... Scrambled eggs... French toast... Pancakes... Breakfast is my thing.

So we know she's safe and taken care of?" Daniel asked, and she nodded. "Good. Then why don't we do something that you want to do?" "Like what?" "I don't know. What do you like to do?" "Um...." Her stomach rumbled, since crying always made her hungry. "I like eating breakfast." "That's so weird." Daniel grinned. "Because I like making French toast." "That works out, doesn't it?

I try not to have a lot of sugar in my system. If I have sugar for breakfast, whether that be fruit or some pancakes or French toast, they'll make sure all of the meals for the rest of the day have no sugar in them. I try to take the sugar out of my diet.

I went to a restaurant that serves 'breakfast at any time'. So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.

Dip a slice of bread in batter. That's September: yellow, gold, soft and sticky. Fry the bread. Now you have October: chewier, drier, streaked with browns. The day in question fell somewhere in the middle of the french toast process.

I don't mean to brag, I don't mean to boast, But I'm intercontinental when I eat French toast.

I'm not the bake-sale-mom type - though once in a while, I'll make challah French toast for my sons.