I drink sleep, but not like I drink coffee. I chug one and sip the other.
Meditation is the process of transformation and beautification of soul from a leaf-eating caterpillar to a nectar-sipping butterfly. It grows with the wings of love and compassion.
Oh, those warm days of stumbling words; blinded eyes, embracing in sweet slow dances and sipping courage from a bottle for sneaking kisses.
I love when my cat crushes his forehead into mine like my skull is an empty beer can. But it’s not—there’s still a sip left.
Boxing gloves/oven mitts could be used to fight fires. My uppercut can knock you out cold, like melting ice. Sip it slowly.
CONFLICT is the unhealthy fruit from the tree of MISUNDERSTANDING which was once a seed of INSECURITIES that sprout from the isolation of MIND, sipping slowly the liquid of PRIDE...
As we hypnotically watch the steadily diminishing reserve of sand in life's hourglass, the instincts of a miser surface. Life is now savored, sipped as with a fine 19th Century French wine.
I couldn't find my cup of tea. So probably, I've been simply taking a sip from everyone else's cup. May be it shouldn't matter as long as there is tea to drink. Or should it?
Every single pleasure I can imagine or have experienced is more delightful, more of a pleasure, if you take it in small sips, if you take your time. Reading is not an exception.
Some books must be sipped slowly like a strong bourbon. Most books must be devoured more than once because as you age you distill more.
TEA I like pouring your tea, lifting the heavy pot, and tipping it up, so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup. Or when you’re away, or at work, I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip, as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your l...
The simple act of sitting here sipping this cappuccino is its own testament to my commitment to living the writer’s life. Which is to say: doing nothing but doing it exceedingly well.
Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle.
Sam took another sip of the pruno. It went down smoother this time, possibly because he no longer had feeling in his extremities.
Wishing, like sipping a glass of punch, or pulling aside a bearskin rug in order to access a hidden trapdoor in the floor, is merely a quiet way to spend one's time before the candles are extinguished on one's birthday cake.
I drink coffee the way most men tie their shoes, and I’m liable to slip on a sip if I don’t follow their lead.
Oh, life, life!" Bastidas complained, sipping his drink. "What is life? A little flame at the tip of a candle, exposed to a strong wind.
Coffee has a way of falling into my cup the way love does not. I’m so tired of being a lone sip when I should be a chug.
When the silent flamingo dances pink with desire, I’ll be there, sipping on owl stares and kitten curls.
When I dance, I’m so fluid you could drink my moves. And if you sip it with your morning coffee, you’ll be light on your feet all day.
Hold summer in your hand, pour summer in a glass, a tiny glass of course, the smallest tingling sip, for children; change the season in your veins by raising glass to lip and tilting summer in.
