Beer has that Olympic medal color,” Rot replied, “but does it have a winning taste? I’d hardly call silver a champion flavor. No, I’ll stick to my red wine.
So, Beav, tell me about yourself." "I'm Blue." "Sweetheart, if I had your dubious taste in men, I wouldn't be too happy, either." "My name is Blue. Blue Bailey.
Through my quick action, I was able to capture her mannerism and store it in a jar. It looks like mayonnaise, but it tastes like love.
My love smells like an empty mayonnaise jar. It ought to, because that’s where I store it. Coincidentally, my love also looks and tastes like mayonnaise.
In a blind taste-test, my kisses were rated as Helen Kelleresque. Women love how the only sense I keenly possess is nonsense.
Love has boundaries, like a map, and I guess that makes me a cartographer. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re too topographical for my taste.
The cup had a lot of volume, so I poured in a lot of noise and sipped it up to my ears. And what I heard didn’t smell like coffee, but it did taste like love.
I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.
Carnal love: a practical man’s love. A love you can see, touch, and taste if you’re kinky. If you can’t hear it, you’re probably better suited to its more abstract form.
I felt a taste of that other kind of contentment that doesn't come from acquiring information or getting praise or building a resume, the kind that is just there, like a hidden pearl.
I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every point coincide with my own. He must enter in all my feelings; the same books, the same music must charm us both.
The taste of Scotch, though Guy didn’t much care for it, was pleasant because it reminded him of Anne. She drank Scotch, when she drank. It was like her, golden, full of light, made with careful art.
Thence it is possible to arrive by easy stages at the happy notion, not uncommon among 'intellectuals', that taste consists of distaste, and that the loftiest of pleasures is that of feeling displeased; and thus to end by enjoying almost nothing in l...
Christmas is like candy; it slowly melts in your mouth sweetening every taste bud, making you wish it could last forever.
Since there was nowhere else he wanted to be and no one else he wanted touching him, Drake shot Gabriel a smug look over his shoulder as he let Victoria take him wherever she wanted.
The most temptation I'd experienced had been with Tomas, the Senate's spy who had been feeding off me without permission, and Mircea, who was probably plotting some nefarious scheme. I have no taste in men.
It makes you ache,” he whispered, and she watched the curve of his lips in the darkness. “You’ll make any promise, swear any oath. For one… perfect… unsoiled taste.
The taste for books was an early one. As a child he was sometimes found at midnight by a page still reading. They took his taper away, and he bred glow-worms to serve his purpose. They took the glow-worms away and he almost burnt the house down with ...
Neither sugar nor salt tastes particularly good by itself. Each is at its best when used to season other things. Love is the same way. Use it to "season" people.
The longer I lived, the longer it would be until I saw him alive again, until I could taste his new lips and run my fingers through his new hair. We could be young and beautiful again . . .
That is what the taste of blood does. It takes away the gap between thought and action.To think is to do. There is no unlived life inside you as the air speeds past your body, as you look down at the dreary villages and market towns...
