Coffee And Psychic Quotes

I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.
Because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event. It doesn't just happen once. It happens over and over again. I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug; whenever that one song plays on the radio, or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. I go to bed at night and lose you, when I wish could tell you about my day. And in the morning, when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheets, begin to lose you all over again. ~ Lang Leav

Get a good book, get few bottles of water or few cups of tea/coffee or Chocolate milk and start reading. ~ Deyth Banger

So, most of it was done over the phone. But one of the first things I did as a director, because it's one of the first things you should do, even though most don't, is to ask good actors who they think is right for the part. They know better than anybody. But without missing a beat Maggie said Pauline Collins. I didn't know Pauline because I hadn't seen Shirley Valentine, but then I saw this thing that she did with Woody Allen [You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger], in which she was wonderful as a psychic, and I said to her on the phone: "The dialogue seemed improvised." ~ Dustin Hoffman

You read all the way through to the end of one, only to find out that the husband dies. You hurl the book across the room, breaking the bedside lamp. When your mom comes home that night, you tell her what happened. You ask her for books to read where no one dies.

Two days later, you find both of your parents in the living room with a pile of novels on the coffee table. They are skimming through them one by one, making sure every character lives to the end. That night, you have a new stack of books to read and you open up the first one, confident it won't break you down.

It is the first time in a long time that you have felt safe. ~ Taylor Jenkins Reid

Cup of Joe
There's nothing like a cup of joe,
when the morning's grey and grim and slow,
when the streets collide with the world outside,
when litter lies where lilies grow.
Just drink that smoking cup of black
and feel your feelings surging back.
Plus, spill a drop and a coffee shop
will sprout up from a sidewalk crack! ~ Bo Burnham

That's why when Peter started talking to me in homeroom this morning, i soaked up his attention like a doughnut dipped in coffee. The fact that his comments have left me soggy and wilted doesn't matter. That's the price you pay when you withdraw to the safety of anonymity ~ Randa Abdel-Fattah

I don't love her!" he shouted. His voice echoed through his empty apartment. He stood and toppled his coffee table, its glass top shattering as it hit the floor. He kicked the sofa several times then went on a full rampage through his lavish apartment. Every ornament got a taste of his wrath. Curtains were ripped off the railings. Paintings were hit off the wall. Vases were flung across the room. Nothing was exempt from this riotous frenzy. Loud banging. Damaged furniture. Cracked glass. Everything that was whole and complete needed to be destroyed. Everything needed to feel the same way he did.
Broken… Shattered…
"I don't love her." He collapsed hopelessly into the mess he created, not caring about the jagged pieces of glass that pierced his skin. "I don't love her." He shut his eyes but the tears streamed down his cheeks regardless. "Love isn't this painful. ~ Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

So are you, sunshine," Paige replied. "Bad night?"
Even though he didn't take off his sunglasses, I knew he was staring straight at me.
"I've had better," he said with an entirely straight face, while I coloured up from head to toe. "I've had worse."
…
"Now, now children," Paige intervened, entirely oblivious to the extreme level of bitchy subtext flying across the table. "Let's not have fisticuffs … Can we kiss and make up?"
Nick turned up one corner of his mouth and nodded. "I'm game if you are, Vanessa."
"I think she means figuratively," I said, adding cream to my coffee. "I'm a professional."
"Really?" He rested his elbows on the table and pushed his glasses up over his eyebrows. "I probably owe you some money then. ~ Linsdey Kelk

There will be no holding off, there will be no remorse and there will be no hesitation. They will die and they will die a horrible death. This is my pledge and vow, so bank on it and don't try to stop me. ~ Mark A. McCormick

Seven and a half." He breathed the words next to her ear.

Her eyes snapped open, all coffee-colored impatience. "You're supposed to go lower, to meet me. Six and a half, you should say."

"Eight," he murmured into her shoulder. "And I'll go lower, to meet you, any time you like." He flicked his tongue across her spine and caught the little shock that went charging up from her tailbone to the base of her skull. When he lifted his head to look in the mirror, her cheeks were red and her chin was down, all fierce attention leveled on his watch.

Eight minutes it was, then. He kissed her, and kissed and kissed and kissed her until he knew that narrow path of skin, and the knobbly scaffolding underneath, the way he knew the lines on his own palm. He knew her scent, and he knew her taste, and he knew which vertebra put a catch in her breath when he brushed it with his lips. He could learn her whole body by mouth, if she would but let him, and distract her all out of her mind. ~ Cecilia Grant

Our table was a large piece of freshly peeled birch bark, laid wrong side up, and our breakfast consisted of hard-bread, fried pork, and strong coffee well sweetened, in which we did not miss the milk. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Soft, the snow falling/Steam spiraling from coffee/The slain cold and still ~ Garth Nix

When we are in a corner with a coffee and a fine each he says: 'Do you know what I feel about you? I think you are very lonely. I know, because for a long time I was lonely myself. I hated people, I didn't want to see anyone. And one day I thought: "No, this isn't the way." And now I go about a lot. I force myself to. I have a lot of friends; I'm never alone. Now I'm much happier.'
That sounds pretty simple. I must try it when I get back to London ... ~ Jean Rhys

If zombies were made of bacon, I would only need a couple of fried eggs and a gallon of coffee, and the problem would basically solve itself. ~ James Dean

There's so much more to life than finding someone who will want you, or being sad over someone who doesn't. There's a lot of wonderful time to be spent discovering yourself without hoping someone will fall in love with you along the way, and it doesn't need to be painful or empty. You need to fill yourself up with love. Not anyone else. Become a whole being on your own. Go on adventures, fall asleep in the woods with friends, wander around the city at night, sit in a coffee shop on your own, write on bathroom stalls, leave notes in library books, dress up for yourself, give to others, smile a lot. Do all things with love, but don't romanticize life like you can't survive without it. Live for yourself and be happy on your own. It isn't any less beautiful, I promise. ~ Emery Allen

My father had a very unusual psychic ability, he could detect water. It's called divining. He would use a Y-shaped U-branch, and he could find water with that, which is a very impressive skill in a country where it rains 365 days of the year. ~ Craig Ferguson

The worst coffee I had ever tasted, but it was hot. I drank three cups and sat there an hour, until I was completely dry. ~ Charles Bukowski

DICK'S DESIRE

Dick's eyes-
Soft, cold, and blue-
Meet Devonshire's-
Dark, sexy, and yearning.

Turning away-
Dick grabs two packets of sugar-
While Devonshire's eyes-
Are still upon him-
Pondering his every move.

Is Dick a playboy,
A ladies' man,
A mans' man,
Or a killer?

Does his sex long for,
Something hard-
Or something soft?

Does he need cream in his coffee-
The screaming splash of a man,
Or the sweet flow of a woman?

Finishing up at the bar-
Dick turns to leave-
Meets Devonshire's gaze again-
Hot, thirsty, and longing-
But full of trepidation.

Following the flow of etiquette-
Dick shoots out of the cafe,
Past Devonshire,
And into a world of dashed hopes,
And regrets.

But Devonshire-
No longer of two worlds-
Rises in pursuit-
Goes after Dick,
And taps him on the shoulder.

Dick gives a turn,
Raises his shoulders,
And smiles with interest-
Taking Devonshire's hand,
And asking his name.

Devonshire answers-
Desire.

Dick invites Devonshire to dinner,
Where he eats everything,
Swallowing Dick's life stories,
And devouring his misgivings.

For dessert,
Devonshire takes Dick home,
Into his bed,
Against his flesh,
And gives Dick all of him-
His deepest desires,< ~ Giorge Leedy

And I had forgotten to get more Sweet'N Low, so I had to drink coffee as bitter as I am. ~ Meg Howrey

i wanted to take
your hand and run with you
together toward
ourselves down the street to your street
i wanted to laugh aloud
and skip the notes past
the marquee advertising "women
in love" past the record
shop with "The Spirit
In The Dark" past the smoke shop
past the park and no
parking today signs
past the people watching me in
my blue velvet and i don't remember
what you wore but only that i didn't want
anything to be wearing you
i wanted to give
myself to the cyclone that is
your arms
and let you in the eye of my hurricane and know
the calm before

and some fall evening
after the cocktails
and the very expensive and very bad
steak served with day-old baked potatoes
after the second cup of coffee taken
while listening to the rejected
violin player
maybe some fall evening
when the taxis have passed you by
and that light sort of rain
that occasionally falls
in new york begins
you'll take a thought
and laugh aloud
the notes carrying all the way over
to me and we'll run again
together
toward each other
yes? ~ Nikki Giovanni

His smile was like a Dylan album and a cup of coffee on a sunny afternoon ~ Jen Archer Wood

I never understood rape until it happened to me. It was a concept- of savagery, of violence, of disrespect. I had read my share of Kate Millet and Susan Brownmiller but nothing prepared me for how to handle it. Within a marriage, fighting back has consequences. The man who rapes me is not a stranger who runs away. The man who rapes me is not the silhouette in the car park, he is not the masked assaulter, he is not the acquaintance who has spiked my drinks. He is someone who wakes up next to me. He is the husband for whom I make coffee the following morning. He is the husband who can shrug it away and tell me to stop imagining things. He is the husband who can blame his action on unbridled passion the next day, while I hobble from room to room.
I begin to learn that there are no screams that are loud enough to make my husband stop. There are no scream that cannot be silenced by the shock of a tight slap. There is no organic defence that can protect against penetration. He covers himself with enough lubricant to slide part my resistance. My legs go limp. I come apart. ~ Meena Kandasamy

What - in other words - would modern boredom be without terror? One of the most boring documents of all time is the thick volume of Hitler's Table Talk. He too had people watching movies, eating pastries, and drinking coffee with Schlag while he bored them, while he discoursed theorized expounded. Everyone was perishing of staleness and fear, afraid to go to the toilet. This combination of power and boredom has never been properly examined. Boredom is an instrument of social control. Power is the power to impose boredom, to command stasis, to combine this stasis with anguish. The real tedium, deep tedium, is seasoned with terror and with death.

There were even profounder questions. For instance, the history of the universe would be very boring if one tried to think of it in the ordinary way of human experience. All that time without events! Gases over and over again, and heat and particles of matter, the sun tides and winds, again this creeping development, bits added to bits, chemical accidents - whole ages in which almost nothing happens, lifeless seas, only a few crystals, a few protein compounds developing. The tardiness of evolution is so irritating to contemplate. The clumsy mistakes you see in museum fossils. How could such bones crawl, walk, run? It is agony to think of the groping of the species - all this fumbling, swamp-creeping, munching, preying, and reproduction, the boring slowness with which tissues, organs, and members developed. And then the bored ~ Saul Bellow

I was in the kitchen drinking coffee when I heard Coretta cry, "Martin, Martin, come quickly!" I put down my cup and ran toward the living room. As I approached the front window Coretta pointed joyfully to a slowly moving bus: "Darling, it's empty! ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

If you want big improvements, she said, chew gum. Gum? Sure enough, chewing gum has been shown to improve a person's immediate recall of learned words by some 24 percent. Long-term recall improves by a larger 36 percent. To get the benefit, you actually have to chew gum as you are studying; for some reason you can't merely move your jaw up and down. I also discovered that drinking sage tea increases one's recall of words modestly, as does the odor of rosemary. Something as mundane as coffee provides a benefit, too. Drinking two cups of coffee increases neuronal activity in the frontal lobe, where working memory is controlled, and in the anterior cingulum, where attention is controlled. ~ Michael Erard

He decided that the time had come to decide what he would make of his life. He went, that night, to the roof of his tenement and looked at the lights of the city, the city where he did not run things. He let his eyes move slowly from the windows of the sagging hovels around him to the windows of the mansions in the distance. There were only lighted squares hanging in space, but he could tell from them the quality of the structures to which they belonged; the lights around him looked muddy, discouraged; those in the distance were clean and tight. He asked himself a single question: what was there that entered all those houses, the dim and the brilliant alike, what reached into every room, into every person? They all had bread. Could one rule men through the bread they bought? They had shoes, they had coffee, they had ... The course of his life was set. ~ Ayn Rand

A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

I like old bookstores, the smell of coffee brewing, rainy day naps, farmhouse porches, and sunsets. I like the sweet, simple things that remind me that life doesn't have to be complicated to be beautiful. ~ Brooke Hampton

All these men afraid of bein' crowded, ain't they? They need all this room, they afraid some woman gonna crawl in their head and take over. Well, surprise, surprise. Ain't nobody crawlin' in there 'cept you, honey, and you get older and older and it get stuffy in there. Let me tell you, you afraid of other folks takin' away your elbow room, well, just relax. You born alone, you die alone, and you get any kind of company in between, you one lucky boy. Bein' by yourself ain't no accomplishment. Ain't like being no kind of hero. Ray, see, Ray sho 'nough figures he gettin' away with somethin', understand me? He think he a clever boy, runnin' round with whores, gettin' diseases, drinkin' his heart out till five in the a.m. Lucky Ray, huh? Well, what Raymond Harris gettin' away with is not see his kids grow up, and when he do come back they call him Mr. Harris 'steada Daddy, and they shake his hand 'steada kiss his cheek, and they spit when he turn his back. And I spit, too, though I'll take him in again and love him, 'cause that's what I's here to do. But I spit anyways, 'cause he such a dumb sucker, understand me? 'Less stupid ole Ray Harris die by hisself in some alleyway. Sho, run away. Best way in the world to be nothin'. Risk endin' up croaked by garbage cans, when he could die in my arms?" Leonia put her coffee cup in its saucer, and it rattled softly. "That no way to be the big man, baby. That just be dumb and sad. You got me? ~ Lionel Shriver

All media work us over completely. They are so pervasive in their personal, political, economic, aesthetic, psychological, moral, ethical, and social consequences that they leave no part of us untouched, unaffected, unaltered. The medium is the massage. Any understanding of social and cultural change is impossible without a knowledge of the way media work as environments. All media are extensions of some human faculty - psychic or physical. ~ Marshall McLuhan

I wake up around noon, light a cigarette, get a cup of coffee, sit in the bathtub for an hour and daydream, and I usually come up with some ideas ... It's a very irresponsible life. The only decisions I make are about the notes I'm writing. ~ Hans Zimmer

The secret of life is just one thing: coffee. And chocolate. And salsa. Three things; the secret of life is just three things... ~ Tracy Tennant

Peabody, with me."
She waited until they were back in her office. "Don't hover over McNab like that."
"Sir?"
"You hover over him, you're going to make him think you're worried."
"I am worried. The twenty-four-"
"Worry all you want, dump on me if you need to. But don't let him see it. He's starting to fray, and he's trying hard not to show it. You try just as hard not to show it. If you need to vent, go out there on the kitchen terrace. Scream your lungs out."
"Is that what you do?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes I kick inanimate objects. Sometimes I jump Roarke and have jungle sex. The last," she said after a beat, "is not an option for you."
"But I think it would really make me feel better, and be a more productive member of the investigative team."
"Good, humor is good. Get me coffee. ~ J.D. Robb

If the waitress comes, order me a coffee and something that involves bacon. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

On Anzac Day, coffee and jokes with a Turk might be the most meaningful and fair dinkum dawn service you could possibly have. ~ Michael Leunig

I'm really not hungry," she repeated, lifting the coffee cup and inhaling the fragrant steam before sipping.
"Just a few bites," he cajoled, taking his own place beside her. "You need to keep up your strength for tonight."
She gave him a heated, slumberous look, remembering her fantasy. "Why? Are you planning something special?"
"I suppose I am," he said consideringly. "It's special every time we make love. ~ Linda Howard

I beg to differ on Charles Bukowski, who says nothing can save you, except writing. Sometimes, absolutely nothing will save you, not the nights you end up wasting waiting for something grand to happen, not the mornings where coffee has no taste and you wake up knowing the day will not be a blast, not the plans and schemes you write down on your imaginary flipchart to make the world go round. You end up stuck, alone and in the disparate points of chaos that drag you down, you have to come up with something to save yourself. Then you make six impossible wishes before breakfast, start walking and working and learn to seize what you call paranormal activity when it comes true. ~ Ioana-Cristina Casapu

Believers in psychic phenomena ... appear to have won a decisive victory and virtually silenced opposition ... This victory is the result of careful experimentation and intelligent argumentation. Dozens of experimenters have obtained positive results in ESP experiments, and the mathematical procedures have been approved by leading statisticians ... Against all this evidence, almost the only defense remaining to the skeptical scientist is ignorance. ~ George R. Price

You think they've gone to London to track Lissa down?" Weldon was worried over the same thing, but didn't want to reveal his concern to Lucas.

"Yes. Their mother is terrified and you know what the Council might do if they find out."

"They are not the most forgiving race on the earth," Weldon agreed, staring into his own coffee cup for a few moments.

"I don't think we can afford to anger them any more than we already have," Lucas went on. "I have no idea what Tony was thinking when he did what he did."

Weldon didn't know either, and had Tony Hancock not been as highly placed as he was, Weldon might have sought justice for Tony's acts himself. Lissa was Pack and she'd been violated. He'd toyed with the idea of pulling his wolves out of the special division of the FBI. Daryl, Weldon's son, had pointed out that the information garnered through those wolves had been invaluable from time to time. For the moment, Weldon judiciously left those wolves where they were. ~ Connie Suttle

I stopped thinking and watched in horror as Tex banged the portafilter on top of the espresso machine. Monty hit a button and was drowned out by Tex's voice shouting, "Fucking steam! Give me some more fucking steam, you monster!" Which was followed by Duke shouting, "It only gives as much steam as it gives, man!"
Wonderful. ~ Kristen Ashely

You men can be such boneheads about these things. She doesn't know you the way I do. She's vulnerable right now. Her ex turned out to be an asshole and you come riding in-"
"There was no riding."
"-being the good guy, looking the way you do"-Brooke gestured to him-"wanting to talk and slow things down and be all sensitive with your coffee and your little blanket. What woman could resist that? My God, why didn't you just cuddle a puppy shirtless while you were at it? ~ Julie James

Sheriff Dennis lifts an Ole Miss coffee mug off the desk and spits tobacco juice into it. "I like spitting on the Rebels," he says distractedly. ~ Greg Iles