My aim all along has been (in Ezra Pound's term) the most drastic desuetization of Scottish life and letters, and, inparticular, thede-Tibetanizationofthe Highlands and Islands, and getting rid of the whole gang of high mucky-mucks, famous fatheads, old wives of both sexes, stuffed shirts, hollow men with headpieces stuffed with straw, bird-wits, lookers-under-beds, trained seals, creeping Jesuses, Scots Wha Ha'evers, village idiots, policemen, leaders of white-mouse factions and noted connoisseurs of bread and butter, glorified gangsters, and what 'Billy' Phelps calls Medlar Novelists (the medlar being a fruit that becomes rotten before it is ripe),Commercial Calvinists, makers of 'noises like a turnip', and all the touts and toadies and lickspittles o the English Ascendancy, and their infernal women-folk, and all their skunkoil skulduggery.

-Grieve
  Lucky Poet, ch.3,'The Kind of Poetry I  Want'.

You are offered a piece of bread and butter that feels like a damp handkerchiefand sometimes, when cucumber is added to it, like a wet one.

-MacKenzie, Sir (Edward Montague) Compton
  Vestal Fire, bk.1, ch.3.

Oh, wasteful woman, she who may On her sweet self set her own price, Knowing man cannot choose but pay, How has she cheapened paradise: How given for naught her priceless gift, How spoiled the bread and spilled the wine, Which, spent with due, respective thrift, Had made brutes men, and men divine.

-Patmore, Coventry Kersey Dighton
  TheAngel in the House, bk.1,The Betrothal, canto 3, prelude 3,'Unthrift'.

In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head.

-Robinson, Edwin Arlington
  The Children of the Night,'Richard Cory'.

Theartist needsbut a roof, a crust of bread, and his easel, and all therest Godgiveshim inabundance.Hemust live to paint and not paint to live.

-Ryder, Albert Pinkham
Quoted in Sherman Albert Pinkham Ryder (1920).

I opened a tin of Bologna sausage and broke a cake of chocolate, and that was all I had to eat. It may sound offensive, but I ate them together, bite by bite, by way of bread and meat. All I had to wash down this revolting mixture was neat brandy; a revolting beverage in itself. But I was rare and hungry; ate well, and smoked one of thebestcigarettesinmyexperience.Then Iput a stonein my straw hat, pulled the flap of my fur cap over my neck and eyes, put my revolver ready to hand, and snuggled well down among the sheepskins.

-Stevenson, Robert Louis
  Travels with a Donkey.

Man is a creature who lives not upon bread alone, but principally by catchwords.

-Stevenson, Robert Louis
Virginibus Puerisque,'Virginibus Puerisque', pt.2.

Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me. Bed in the bush with the stars to see, Bread I dip in the riverö There's the life for a man like me, There's the life for ever.

-Stevenson, Robert Louis
  Songs ofTravel (published1896), no.1,'TheVagabond', stanza1.

   I won't quarrel with my Bread and Butter.

-Swift,Jonathan
  Polite Conversation, dialogue1.

   Werther had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter.

-Thackeray,William Makepeace
  'Sorrows of Werther'.

People who eat white bread have no dreams.

-Vreeland, Diana originally Diana Dalziel
Quoted in AnnetteTapert and Diana EdkinsThe Power of Style (1994).

Weary men, what reap ye?öGolden corn for the stranger. What sow ye?öHuman corpses that wait for the avenger. Fainting forms, hunger stricken, what see ye in the offing? Stately ships to bear our food away, amid the stranger's scoffing. There's a proud array of soldiersöwhat do they round your door? They guard our master'sgranaries from the thin hands of the poor. Pale mothers, wherefore weeping? Would to God that we were deadö Ourchildren swoon before us, and we cannot give them bread.

-Wilde,Jane Francesca ne¤  e Elgee
'The FamineYear'.

Our hearts, unrisen, yield a heavy bread.

-Wilkinson, Anne
  The HangmanTies the Holly,'Topsoil to theWind'.

   They flee from me, that sometime did me seek, With naked foot, stalking in my chamber. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek, That now are wild, and do not remember That sometime they put themselves in danger To take bread at my hand; and now they range, Busily seeking with a continual change.

-Wyatt, SirThomas (the Elder)
  'They Flee from Me'.