Explore a collection of the most beloved and motivational quotes and sayings about Pottle. Share these powerful messages with your loved ones on social media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, or on your personal blog, and inspire the world with their wisdom. We've compiled the Top 100 Pottle Quotes and Sayings from 90 influential authors, including Rick Riordan,Suzanne Collins,Anthony Doerr,Roald Dahl,Katherine Dunn, for you to enjoy and share.

But Old Potty Face mentioned another name. By Rick Riordan Potty Face Mentioned

Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out. By Suzanne Collins Peeta Bakes Hunt Haymitch Drinks

pilaster, probably meant to anchor a By Anthony Doerr Pilaster Meant Anchor

You ignorant little slug!" the Trunchbull bellowed. "You witless weed! You empty-headed hamster! You stupid glob of glue! By Roald Dahl Trunchbull Slug Bellowed Ignorant Weed

Just as a snowflakewent on to feed a puddle that filled a stream and then the river, thepumpkin patch is a gathering of molecules from my old goats, chickens,and cats, feeding the underworld of dirt creatures. And somewhere, myfather's ashes mingle with birds, air, and sea. By Katherine Dunn River Thepumpkin Goats Chickensand Cats

I found myself thinking of Potts as a tragic figure, a guy who'd been a happy towheaded kid you'd love to take fishing with you, who'd mistakenly invested in academic medicine when he'd have been happy in his family business, and who'd become a splattered mess on the parking lot of a hospital in a city he'd despised. What had been the seductiveness of medicine? Why? By Samuel Shem Happy Potts Figure Business Despised

Your petal from the salty rose By Tom Robbins Rose Petal Salty

Sir McHotpants Von Grabby Hands By Penny Reid Hands Von Grabby Sir Mchotpants

The world is full of pots jeering at kettles. By Francois De La Rochefoucauld Kettles World Full Pots Jeering

Uncle Pumblechook: a large hard-breathing middle-aged slow man, with a mouth like a fish, dull staring eyes, and sandy hair standing upright on his head, so that he looked as if he had just been all but choked, and had that moment come to. By Charles Dickens Pumblechook Uncle Man Fish Dull

The poison dart hidden in the raisin tart. ... By Christopher Paolini Tart Poison Dart Hidden Raisin

Hi, pot. It's me, kettle," Sophia snapped back."Hi kettle, you have about thirty seconds before this pot kicks your ass. By Alice Clayton Kettle Sophia Pot Back Ass

They passed a bed of opium poppies, dispetaled now; the round, ripe seedheads were brown and dry - like Polynesian trophies, Denis thought; severed heads stuck on poles. By Aldous Huxley Denis Polynesian Poppies Dispetaled Round

Hercule Poirot was sitting at the breakfast table. At his right hand was a steaming cup By Agatha Christie Poirot Hercule Table Sitting Breakfast

A huge fireplace and Dutch oven of fieldstone filled one wall. Over them hung a long muzzle-loading rifle, powder horn, and bullet pouch. On the mantel were candle molds, a coffee mill, an iron and trivet, and a rusty kettle. An iron cauldron, big enough to boil a missionary in, swung at the end of a long arm in the fireplace, and below it, like so many black offspring, were a cluster of small pots. A wooden butter churn held the door open, and clusters of Indian corn hung from the molding at aesthetic intervals. A colonial scythe stood in one corner, and two Boston rockers on a hooked rug faced the cold fireplace, where the unwatched pot never boiled. Paul By Kurt Vonnegut Jr. Dutch Wall Fireplace Huge Oven

One criticizes the English for carrying their teapots wherever they go, even lugging them up Mount Etna. But doesn't every nationhave its teapot, in which, even when traveling, it brews the dried bundles of herbs brought from home? By Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe Etna English Mount Criticizes Carrying

I, Hercule Poirot, am not amused. By Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot Amused

The usefulness of the pot lies in its emptiness. By Laozi Emptiness Usefulness Pot Lies

bradawl. It was just a blunt steel spike set into a handle. By Lee Child Bradawl Handle Blunt Steel Spike

Children being children, however, the grotesque Hopping Pot had taken hold of their imaginations. The solution was to jettison the pro-Muggle moral but keep the warty cauldron, so by the middle of the sixteenth century a different version of the tale was in wide circulation among wizarding families. In the revised story, the Hopping Pot protects an innocent wizard from his torch-bearing, pitchfork-toting neighbours by chasing them away from the wizard's cottage, catching them and swallowing them whole. By J.k. Rowling Children Hopping Pot Imaginations Grotesque

Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride. By William Wordsworth Spade Thou Hands Thee Soil

Pots can show malice, the patterns of linoleum can leer up at you, treachery is the other side of dailiness. By Alice Munro Pots Malice Treachery Dailiness Show

Pbbtlt."It smells like ham, Glo said. It must be Hatchet"Hatchet moved out of the shadows. "My intent was to capture and torture for information, but you have made my job easy. I now know the clue and can give this information to my master.""He's not going to believe you," Glo said. "You fart."Hatchet stood tall with one hand on his sword. "Everyone doth fart.""Not like you," Glo said. "You're a ham farter."Hatchet pressed his lips together. "Tis a manly fart. By Janet Evanovich Glo Hatchet Pbbtlt Smells Fart

ginger ¼ teaspoon pumpkin By Candice Kumai Ginger Teaspoon Pumpkin

dung. Spot wouldn't even put his nose inside the By Books Dung Spot Put Nose Inside

winter plumbnot plumb By Geof Huth Winter Plumb Plumbnot

For somewhere," said Poirot to himself, indulging in an absolute riot of mixed metaphors, "there is in the hay a needle, and among the sleeping dogs there is one on whom I shall put my foot, and by shooting the arrows into the air, one will come down and hit a glass house! By Agatha Christie Poirot Indulging Metaphors Needle Foot

voluptuous sluggard, By Fyodor Dostoyevsky Voluptuous Sluggard

Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, Nettled and stung with pismires[nettles], when I hear Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. By William Shakespeare Bolingbroke Nettles Nettled Rods Pismires

Careful, pot" Tod said. "Someone might notice your resemblance to the kettle. By Rachel Vincent Careful Pot Tod Kettle Notice

Toward seven o'clock every morning, I leave my study and step Out on the bright terrace; the sun already burns resplendent Between the shadows of the fig tree, makes the low wall of coarse Granite warm to the touch. Here my tools lie ready and waiting, Each one an intimate, an ally: the round basket for weeds: The zappetta, the small hoe with a short haft ... There's a rake here as well, at at times a mattock and spade, Or two watering cans filled with water warmed by the sun. With my basket and small hoe in hand, facing the sun, I Go out for my morning walk. By Hermann Hesse Granite Sun Terrace Tree Makes

Pick the right sized pot, don't pick a pot five times bigger, twice as big. By Steven Chu Bigger Big Pick Pot Sized

Oh, stow your whids, you dreary watering-pot, By Marion Chesney Stow Whids Wateringpot Dreary

Squirrelpaw!" Brambleclaw's By Erin Hunter Squirrelpaw Brambleclaw

Takes birth in me,also, dies in debris.I am a Potpourri.A mix of dead petals,effusing divine fragrance.Walking on the journey,of controversy.I am a Potpourri. By Jasleen Kaur Gumber Potpourri Mealso Dies Birth Debrisi

Rosie Germaine Mole. By Sue Townsend Mole Germaine Rosie

Poirot was standing in the larder in a dramtic attitude. In his hand he was brandishing a leg of mutton.'My dear Poirot! What is the matter? have you gone mad?''Regard i pray you this mutton! But regard it closely! By Agatha Christie Poirot Attitude Standing Larder Dramtic

Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. By Alfred Lord Tennyson Weeded Grange Worn Ancient Thatch

cosine wherry, a wooden rowboat hand By Susan Wiggs Cosine Wherry Hand Wooden Rowboat

LAST, n. A shoemaker's implement, named by a frowning Providence as opportunity to the maker of puns. By Ambrose Bierce Providence Implement Named Puns Shoemaker

Away with the joint-stools, remove thecourt-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, saveme a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, letthe porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.Antony, and Potpan! By William Shakespeare Jointstools Remove Thecourtcupboard Plate Potpan

I hold the ratchet unorthodox. Pernell Whittaker, I'm duckin' all sorts of shots By Vinnie Paz Unorthodox Whittaker Hold Ratchet Pernell

When I see pot-bellied cyclists wearing the 'maillot jaune,' it appals me. By Bernard Hinault Maillot Jaune Potbellied Cyclists Wearing

We had reached Leastways Cottage, and Poirot ushered me upstairs to his own room. He offered me one of the tiny Russian cigarettes he himself occasionally smoked. I was amused to notice that he stowed away the used matches most carefully in a little china pot. My momentary annoyance vanished. By Agatha Christie Cottage Leastways Poirot Room Reached

I've heard that you're the cat's whiskers, M. Poirot.""Comment? The cat's whiskers? I do not understand.""Well that you're It.""Madame, I may or may not have brains - as a matter of fact I have - why pretend? By Agatha Christie Comment Poirot Whiskers Cat Heard

Penis? Cock? Dick? Wood? Schlong? Womb broom? Clam hammer? Yogurt slinger? By Jewel E. Ann Penis Cock Dick Wood Schlong

the pot to get the answers the other animals wanted. But as time went by Anansi got fed up with all the animals visiting. "They always knock when I'm about to sit down and enjoy my tea, or when I'm enjoying lying in the shade of my favourite tree," he would moan. "Why can't they just leave me alone?" "It must be hard," said Aso, not really listening. But he was right, the animals were always coming to see him. Take for example when one of Rabbit's children hopped up to see Anansi. "Anansi, please look in the pot for me. My brothers and sisters tease me because I'm scared By Lynne Garner Animals Anansi Wanted Answers Pot

Hickory dickory dock my daddy's nuts from shellshock. By Dalton Trumbo Hickory Shellshock Dickory Dock Daddy

Schist," said an angry voice from the grass. Hazel raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" "Schist! Big pile of schist! By Rick Riordan Schist Grass Angry Voice Excuse

fishhook. It's squiggly like a worm. Something's By Caroline Fyffe Fishhook Worm Squiggly

Rub a half potato on your wartand wrap it in a damp cloth. Closeyour eyes and whirl three times and throw.Then bury rag and spud exactly where they fall. By Richard Hugo Rub Cloth Half Potato Wartand

If you have no Honey in your Pot, have some in your Mouth. By Benjamin Franklin Pot Mouth Honey

scrotum. By David Levithan Scrotum

I do not waste my time writing pot-boilers: the pot must be boiled, and even my pot au feu has some chunks of fresh meat in it ... I have no time to boil myself down; and anyhow I could not do so and preserve all the necessary nutriment and the flavoring on which the digestibility depends. By George Bernard Shaw Pot Potboilers Boiled Time Waste

A deistical prater, fit to sit in the chimney-corner of a pot-house, and make blasphemous comments on the one greasy newspaper fingered by beer-swilling tinkers. By George Eliot Prater Fit Pothouse Tinkers Deistical

Immersed this spring in research for this chapter, I was sorely tempted to plant one of the hybrid cannabis seeds I'd seen for sale in Amsterdam. I immediately thought better of it, however. So I planted lots of opium poppies instead. I hasten to add that I've no plans to do anything with my poppies except admire them - first their fleeting tissue-paper blooms, then their swelling blue-green seedpods, fat with milky alkaloid. (Unless, of course, simply walking among the poppies is enough to have an effect, as it was for Dorothy in Oz.) By Michael Pollan Amsterdam Immersed Chapter Poppies Spring

He loved the stuff. But unfortunately he couldn't say "Propamidine." In fact nobody on the entire establishment could say it except Charlie the farm foreman and he only thought he could say it. He called it "Propopamide" but his lordship had the utmost faith in him. By James Herriot Stuff Propamidine Loved Propopamide Charlie

There's a cover for every pot, but I've never seen so many mismatched pots and covers in all my life. - Ellen Wasserfeldman, from Notes from Ellen Wasserfeldman by Alisa Dana Steinberg By Alisa Steinberg Ellen Wasserfeldman Life Steinberg Mismatched

I'm a sunflower with a cracked petal. By Augusten Burroughs Petal Sunflower Cracked

Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain. By Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni Fenugreek Tuesday Spice Rain Air

The Rat, meanwhile, was busy examining the label on one of the beer-bottles. "I perceive this to be Old Burton," he remarked approvingly. "Sensible Mole! The very thing! Now we shall be able to mull some ale. Get the things ready, Mole, while I draw the corks." By Kenneth Grahame Rat Mole Beerbottles Busy Examining

haze-brained nitwitpickle-head froggy leg soupmurky daunting gone By Moonshine Noire Hazebrained Nitwitpicklehead Froggy Leg Soupmurky

I don't like pot anymore I forget why. By Margaret Cho Pot Anymore Forget

When these suckers had formed roots in the open ground, or kind of nursery where they were planted, they were looked over and the best taken up for potting. By Robert Fortune Ground Planted Potting Suckers Formed

Ree sat chilled inside her squat tent. To occupy her mind, she decided to name all the Miltons: Thump, Blond, Catfish, Spider, Whoop, Rooster, Scrap ... Lefty, Dog, Punch, Pinkeye, Momsy ... Cotton, Hog-jaw, Ten Penny, Peashot ... By Daniel Woodrell Thump Blond Catfish Spider Whoop

Pour, varlet, pour the waterThe water steaming hot!A spoonful for each man of usAnother for the pot! By Thomas Babington Macaulay Varlet Pour Hot Pot Waterthe

Any noseMay ravage with impunity a rose. By Robert Browning Rose Nosemay Ravage Impunity

Just let me catch my breath, Red Macalister, and think. You've tipped my teapot handle over spout. By Debra Holland Red Macalister Breath Catch Spout

Final DispositionOthers divided closets full of mother's things.From the earth, I took her poppies.I wanted those fandango foldsof red and black chiffon she doted on,loving the wild and Moorish music of them,coating her tongue with the thin skinof their crimson petals.Snapping her fingers, flamenco dancer,she'd mock the clack of castanetsin answer to their gypsy cadence.She would crouch toward the flounce of flowers,twirl, stamp her foot, then kick it outas if to lift the ruffles, scarletalong the hemline of her yard.And so, I dug up, soil and all,the thistle-toothed and gray-green clumpsof leaves, the testicle seedpods and hairy stemsboth out of season, to transplant them in my less-exotic garden. There, they bloomher blood's abandon, year after year,roots holding, their poppy heads noddinga carefree, opium-ecstatic, possibly forever sleep. By Jane Glazer Moorish Flamenco Final Earth Fingers

Phury lit a blunt and eyed the sixteen cans of Aqua Net that were lined up on Butch and V's coffee table."What's doing with the hair spray? You boys going drag on us?"Butch held up the lenght of PVC pipe he was punching a hole in."Potato launcher, my man. Big fun.""Excuse me ?""Didn't you ever go to summer camp ?""Basket weaving and woodcarving are for humans. No offense, but we have better things to teach our youngs. By J.r. Ward Aqua Net Butch Phury Table

The hydrangeas are clipped for the winter and there is a gardener with rum on his breath (and odd socks on his feet) who offers to show you the scars on his back, the droppings of a wallaby, the scratchings of a bandicoot or a leech which he will pull inside out with the aid of a twig- T'only way to kill'un, missus. By Peter Carey Tonly Missus Breath Feet Back

Thou spring'st a leak already in thy crown, A flaw is in thy ill-bak'd vessel found; 'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring sound, Yet thy moist clay is pliant to command, Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand: Now take the mould; now bend thy mind to feel The first sharp motions of the forming wheel. By John Dryden Unwrought Thy Tis Thou Crown

Twenty miles on, we have spotted a roadside sign: 'CHAINSAW CARVED MUSHROOMS'. Troubles promptly forgotten, Stuart falls to gawping at the road ahead. What could it all be about? 'As one victim to another,' his body language seems to marvel, 'What's a mushroom done to deserve that kind of abuse?' Not even in the worst days of street-fighting did he ever experience ill-treatment on this scale. By Alexander Masters Chainsaw Carved Twenty Sign Miles

We easily fall into the habit of accepting compressed statements which save us from the trouble of thinking. Thus arises what I shall call 'Potted Thinking'. By Susan Stebbing Thinking Potted Easily Fall Habit

Hayes. Peter Hayes. By Veronica Roth Hayes Peter

PPPS. I hope Butterbur sends this promptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room: thing wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him. By J.r.r. Tolkien Ppps Butterbur Promptly Man Lumberroom

Your pot broken seemes better then my whole one. By George Herbert Pot Broken Seemes

She was his potchke, his fleutchke, his notchke, his motchke, his everything that the speech of St. Botolphs left unexpressed. She was his little, little squirrel. By John Cheever Botolphs Potchke Fleutchke Notchke Motchke

There's something very disconcerting about a sock with Winnie the Pooh on it wriggling and squirming about my knicker drawer. Looking for its honey pot. By Andrea Bramhall Winnie Pooh Drawer Disconcerting Sock

Hyacinth. Please forgive me. By Vanessa Diffenbaugh Hyacinth Forgive

Ahead of the tin was all craning white heads and expectant muttering, behind it was silence and crumbs. Lynne By Belinda Bauer Ahead Muttering Crumbs Lynne Tin

It is that word 'hunny,' my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader fwowed up. By Dorothy Parker Hunny House Pooh Corner Tonstant

Plopbottle closed his eyes. Suddenly he wasn't a low-grade technician any more, he was Johnny Marino in Disco Night Fever. Confident, sophisticated, chic, and above all, not a goblin. He pointed down to the floor and up to the ceiling, he twirled his jacket round his head and spun on his heels. He hustled, he shimmied, he mash potatoed, he did the boogaloo. By Indigo Lane Plopbottle Eyes Closed Fever Johnny

The Infusion of a China plant sweetened with the pith of an Indian Cane. By Joseph Addison Cane Infusion China Indian Plant

[About Poirot] The flamboyant moustaches, the sartorial elegance, the white spats and the pointed patent leather shoes all filled this insular young man with distinct misgivings. By Agatha Christie Poirot Moustaches Elegance Misgivings Flamboyant

In the bibulous days of Shakespeare, the peg tankard, a species of wassail or wish-health bowl, was still in use. Introduced to restrain intemperance, it became a cause of it, as every drinker was obliged to drink down to the peg. We get our expression of taking a man "a peg lower," or taking him "down a peg," from this custom. By William Shakespeare Shakespeare Peg Tankard Bowl Bibulous

When an emergency arose that necessiated Uncle Jay-Jay to shoe a horse himself, I always manipulated the bellows. He was always so exacting that I did it with great decorum, fearing his displeasure.This case was different.I worked the pole with such energy that it nearly blew the fire out of the pan, and sent ashes and sparks in a whirlwind around Harold."That the way to blow?" I asked demurely."Take things a little easier," He replied. I took them so easily that the fire was on its last gasp and the shoe was almost cold when required."This won't do," Said Harry.I recommenced with such force that he had to retreat."Steady! Steady!" He shouted."Sure, O'i can't plaze yez anyhows," I replied By Miles Franklin Uncle Steady Bellows Emergency Arose

As the pot slowly fills up with water, drop by drop, so does the fool, little by little, become evil. By Thich Nhat Hanh Water Fool Evil Drop Pot

They're holding flushes of face cards, and I think we're the pot. By Howard Tayler Cards Pot Holding Flushes Face

Kerrick the weed. By Maria V. Snyder Kerrick Weed

wup-wup-wup" - Pil and Popo By H.r. Willaston Pil Popo

Summerlee burst into derisive laughter. 'A ptero-fiddlestick!' said he. 'It was a stork, if I ever I saw one. By Arthur Conan Doyle Summerlee Laughter Burst Derisive Pterofiddlestick

Cogg would suddenly stand stock still. "Listen," he would say. Some feeble quack would be heard from the willow beyond the pond. "That's an easy one to tell. The frog-pippit." Then he would add, As a safety measure, "As I believe they call it in these parts." By Stephen Potter Cogg Listen Suddenly Stand Stock

Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn't allow itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn't hear of accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal; it would lean forward with a drunken air and dribble, a very Idiot of a kettle, on the hearth. It was quarrelsome, and hissed and spluttered morosely at the fire. To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle's fingers, first of all turned topsy-turvey, and then with an ingenious pertinacity deserving of a better cause, dived sideways in - down to the very bottom of the kettle. And the hull of the Royal George has never made half the monstrous resistance to coming out of the water, which the lid of that kettle employed against Mrs. Peerybingle, before she got it up again. It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then: carrying its handle with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly and mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle as if it said, I won't boil. Nothing shall induce me! By Charles Dickens Kettle Mrs Peerybingle Obstinate Aggravating

Sits bits unhitch! By Donna K. Childree Sits Unhitch Bits

These suckling-pigs were really delicious, and Pencroft was devouring his share with great gusto, when all at once a cry and an oath escaped him. "What's the matter?" asked Cyrus Harding. "The matter? the matter is that I have just broken a tooth!" replied the sailor. "What, are there pebbles in your peccaries?" said Gideon Spilett. "I suppose so," replied Pencroft, drawing from his lips the object which had cost him a grinder!-- It was not a pebble--it was a leaden bullet. By Jules Verne Matter Delicious Gusto Pencroft Sucklingpigs

When I play poker, I don't like losing the pot. By Drew Carey Poker Pot Play Losing

A small pot boils quick. You can tell much about the depth of one's character by how quickly he 'boils'. By Joel Osteen Quick Boils Small Pot Depth

In other words, my pot doesn't work?" "It doesn't have a pulse," he says. "I have a pulse." Kimmie offers her wrist. "Wanna check? By Laurie Faria Stolarz Pulse Words Work Pot Wanna

I'm just a potato that won't quit. I'm a potato with some legs. Some have eyes, I've got legs. By Bill Murray Quit Potato Legs Eyes