Pies mean Thanksgiving and Christmas and picnics.

In geometry, whenever we had to find the area of a circle, pi * radius squared, I would get really hungry for pie. Square pie.

The difference between superlative pie and a wish for cake is crust. Understand that pie is a generous but self-centered substance. It likes attention, not affection. Do not hug your crust. Do not rub its...

El limón, como el amor, le da un gusto especial a la vida. En la limonada, el pie, el mousse, la gelatina, los caramelos, las brochetas de manzana, el jugo en las ensaladas de cebollas...

Only those who will love longer than they expected to can truly love pecan pie, which doesn’t explain its status as death rows most requested last dessert, or why chopped pecans, corn syrup, directions from...

This shit is easy peasy, pumpkin peasy, pumpkin pie, muthafucka!

Pie makes everybody happy.

Uncle Sam’s not related to me. He’s stuck his dick in the American Pie too many times to be welcome at my family picnics.

See that’s where you’re wrong baby. When you find your man, it’s almost too easy. Gettin’ married and havin’ a mortgage, kids and a business to run and findin’ a way to stay in love...

A clock is a pie, and my piece is between 1 and 12. It’s always time to love—especially if it’s filled with cinnamon apples.

Pie may just be the Madonna-whore of the dessert world.

The sandy beach reminded Harold of picnics. And the thought of picnics made him hungry. So he laid out a nice simple picnic lunch. There was nothing but pie. But there were all nine kinds...

I think ‘American Pie’ is great.

Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don’t look awful this time.Me (Ilona): …~A little later~Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen*Kid 1: Hey, you’ve got to see these pies....

Alford, Massachusetts: Mandy stood there with her old Nikon film camera, snapping photo after photo of the rural landscape. It was difficult to describe the wonderful feeling of there not being a single cell phone...

The vampire leaned forward, tapping a scimitar claw. “Is that a lion with horns and a pitchfork?””Yep.””Is he carrying a moon on his pitchfork?””No, it’s a pie.

Cut my pie into four pieces, I don’t think I could eat eight.

She asked for the time, and I said that information is for sale—by the slice. 60 slices in a whole pie.

We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.