I have an affinity for the old Seattle coffee shops, places like the Green Onion and the Copper Kettle, the classic kind of coffee bar - little places that served breakfast, lunch and dinner and have pretty much disappeared.
When I am working it is up early and coffee and 15 hours of being on the set. When I am not working, it is up late and coffee, golf or softball and hopefully a ball game on the television.
Certainly the caffeine in coffee, whether it's Starbucks or generic coffee, is somewhat of a stimulant. But if you drink it in moderation, which I think four or five cups a day is, you're fine.
Coffee is a lot like people. In many ways, it’s deceiving. The sweetness that you smell as it brews is more often than not a fallacy. The scent of a dark roasted coffee bean promises you rich flavors with hints of chocolate and hazelnut, but if you...
At this time to refuse or neglect to give coffee to their wives was a legitimate cause for divorce among the Turks." William H. Ukers (1873-1945).
He liked the idea of coffee quite a lot—a warm drink that gave you energy and had been for centuries associated with sophisticates and intellectuals. But coffee itself tasted to him like caffeinated stomach bile.
I’m 32 years old and I’m tired. It’s because I haven’t drank enough coffee. If I had, I’d probably only be 29.
I drink coffee like an alcoholic drinks gasoline. You wouldn’t believe how many gallons my little car can hold.
I think coffee is the best drink known to man. I also think that wine is the best drink known to woman.
Good days are ahead of me. But so is the worst day of my life—my last day. I need a cup of coffee large enough to take a bath in.
The leaves are orange, her hair is orange, and my mood is blue. That reminds me, I really do need to make some more coffee.
Ask the police, and they’ll tell you I have a mug shot. They watched me take the picture before drinking the coffee out of the mug.
I soak my white socks in coffee, so I can wear them with brown pants and keep my feet from falling asleep.
I drink coffee with a spoon, and I eat soup with a straw. The clang of metal on an empty mug wakes me up to the moment and reminds me to love.
I use my windshield wipers when it’s not raining. I’m an umbrellaless pedestrian, and I can’t tell the difference between Starbucks’ coffee and a mud puddle in a cup.
I’m 50% in love. To put that into a visual, I am a 3’ tall midget aspiring to be a 6’ tall man, with the coffee capacity of a narcoleptic camel.
She drowned in a coffee cup the size of a swimming pool. It really helped wake me up to my own mortality.
I make love like uh huh. Huh? Uh huh. I also make coffee, though you have to pay for that.
I wear glasses. They improve my hearing, Helen Keller style. And I sip coffee like a mute orator on a meteor. Drink up the deafness.
I’m grateful for what you’ve done—and I’m ungrateful for what you haven’t done. A cup half full of coffee is also half full of sleep.
I want to roast Mr. Bean, because that’d be the funniest coffee ever. I think I’d make a great roastmaster.
