Sprinkles Quotes

“Perspective seasons meaning with sprinkles of time.”
― Soul Dancer, Pay Me What I'm Worth: Say it. Mean it. Get it.

“The little things that makes you feel better are like the happy sprinkles you add on top of your life.”
― Nouf Alfadl

“Saturday is birthday cake day.
During the week, the panadería is all strong coffee and pan dulce. But on weekends, it's sprinkle cookies and pink cake. By ten or eleven this morning, we'll get the first rush of mothers picking up yellow boxes in between buying balloons and paper streamers.
In the back kitchen, my father hums along with the radio as he shapes the pastry rounds of ojos de buey, the centers giving off the smell of orange and coconut. It may be so early the birds haven't even started up yet, but with enough of my mother's coffee and Mariachi Los Camperos, my father is as awake as if it were afternoon.
While he fills the bakery cases, my mother does the delicate work of hollowing out the piñata cakes, and when her back is turned, I rake my fingers through the sprinkle canisters. During open hours, most of my work is filling bakery boxes and ringing up customers (when it's busy) or washing dishes and windexing the glass cases (when it's not). But on birthday cake days, we're busy enough that I get to slide sheet cakes from the oven and cover them in pink frosting and tiny round nonpareils, like they're giant circus-animal cookies. I get to press hundreds-and-thousands into the galletas de grajea, the round, rainbow-sprinkle-covered cookies that were my favorite when I was five.
My mother finishes hollowing two cake halves, fills them with candy- green, yellow, and pink this time- and puts them back together. Her piñatas are half our Saturday cake orders, both birthday girls and grandfathers delighting at the moment of seeing M&M's or gummy worms spill out. She covers them with sugar-paste ruffles or coconut to look like the tiny paper flags on a piñata, or frosting and a million rainbow sprinkles.”
― Anna-Marie McLemore, Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

“I'm going to ejaculate sparkles into your heart!”
― Matt Fraction, Sex Criminals, Vol. 3: Three the Hard Way

“I open the door and jump into the passenger seat. Sprinkles leap from the donut and cascade around the car, mostly between my seat and the console.

Jude glares at me. I smile. "Sorry. You know kids are messy. You should get used to it."

"You're not a kid anymore. Stop eating my food, messing up my car and demanding I chauffeur you everywhere," Jude grumbles and starts the engine.”
― Victoria Denault, Slammed

“Inside the thick paper is a narrow glass container about five inches tall with gold swirls and starbursts etched into the glass. The container is filled with the fanciest gold sprinkles I've ever seen. The sprinkles echo the designs on the jar: tiny shiny gold swirls and starbursts. They're so delicate and pretty. Mystified, I open the card. Inside, in the same elegant script, are two words:


For courage


"That's strange." I show Mom the card, puzzled by who the gift is from and how it came to be sitting in our kitchen. The doors to the shop were locked, Mom was with me at Henry's, and we are the only ones who have keys. Curiouser and curiouser. Gingerly, I unscrew the gold cap on the glass container and shake a few of the golden sprinkles into my hand. They seem to shimmer against my skin, tantalizing. I place one on the tip of my tongue and shiver with pleasure. The taste is subtle, sweet as sprinkles always are, but there's something almost floral, a hint of violets and vanilla. They're delicious, but there's something odd about them too, a faint tingling sensation, a little buzz of energy that zips from the tip of my tongue down to my toes. Like a little jolt of static electricity. I glance at the jar in surprise. It's the same feeling I got when I started to see my vision, when I made the wish and blew out the candle and saw the first gold sparkles burst across my field of sight.”
― Rachel Linden, A Sprinkle of Sweet Serendipity