“I need someone to eat breakfast with and watch Adventure Time with!”

I knew I was going to do something great.

Summer and the laugh of my daughter make me believe in god.

Then, do other miscellaneous things that you can’t say on Twitter!

I knew I wasn’t going to die 20 miles from where I was born, no 20 miles from where I lived.

My father would often work all night and sleep during the day, so for us, dinner might be pancakes, and breakfast might be beef stroganoff.

I have savored to the full all the small, daily joys. The bright sunshine on the breakfast table; the smell of the air at dusk; the sound of the clock ticking; the light rains that start gently after midnight; the hour when the family come home.

The next day, she was silent. For breakfast, she murdered an onion and served it raw.

I still think the best classic meal in New York is a coffee-shop breakfast – you sort of can’t skip it.

The first duty of a revolutionist is to get away with it. The second duty is to eat breakfast. I ain’t going.

The first duty of a revolutionary is to get away with it. The second duty is to eat breakfast. I ain’t going.

Breakfast is everything. The beginning, the first thing. It is the mouthful that is the commitment to a new day, a continuing life.

Don’t ask what things I’ll have for breakfast come over to me, Let me have you this morning.