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“I've always had a strange fear of spoons.”
― Liam Payne

“I can’t have sex with you today because there aren’t enough spoons.”
― Jenny Lawson, Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things

“I was going to do some more work when I got home, but…â€� She sighs, rubbing her knuckles against her eyes. “I didn’t have enough juice.â€�
“Ah,� I say.
For her birthday this summer, I splurged and bought a small bushel of oranges, which we squeezed into glasses and pretended was the real, gourmet orange juice our father used to make. As we sat at the table, acting like the drink wasn’t sour and pulpy, we got to talking about how her illness had come to affect her life. She explained to me that her energy reserves were like that glass of yellow juice. Every action of daily life—getting out of bed, bathing, dressing, doing research—siphoned juice away. Once the glass was empty, no matter how much she had left she needed to do or how much she’d hoped to get done, her body needed to rest. To refill the glass. If she tried to push beyond that, it could knock her out for days. Even weeks.”
― Jessica S. Olson, A Forgery of Roses

“His body had stopped listening to him. He'd passed an invisible limit and simply shut down.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Crooked Kingdom

“He didn't think his mother's brother used drugs and yet the number of spoons and trap house Feng Shui seemed to keep the option open.”
― Mandy Ashcraft, Small Orange Fruit

“You think it’s a game?
Unintelligible? Ha!
Envision no spoons.

This is serious.
It is a matter of joy
versus emptiness.”
― Kristen Henderson, Of My Maiden Smoking

“She looked over to where he was, seated at the other end of the kitchen table in the light which, since his arrival, she had blocked by curtains because of his sensitive eyes. He concentrated on polishing spoons with a silver cloth: six teaspoons from a great-aunt. One leg was slung over the other, which would have looked strange enough, but he was also wearing a flowered apron fastened around his waist, and it contrasted stunningly with his large, muscular green body, his nobly massive head. Dorothy thought he looked, as always, wonderful.”
― Rachel Ingalls, Mrs. Caliban

“Lloyd didn’t even flinch, he didn’t even try to dodge when Mr. Rogers swiped the nearest utensil and went to stab him in the neck.
Feng caught his arm just as the spoon dipped in Lloyd’s jugular. “Dude, what are you doing?� he hissed.
“Committing murder. Give me a second.�
“With a spoon? No, you’re not. Not now at least.�
Lloyd gave him a ‘What the Hell?â€� look that he ignored.”
― Heather Chambers, Earth Sucks