Coffee Mug Quotes

She was an ocean, confined in a coffee mug. And she had the galaxies, confined in her pretty eyes. ~ Akshay Vasu

I've been very lucky. All I wanted was to pay the rent. Then these characters took off and suddenly there were Hulk coffee mugs and Iron Man lunchboxes and The Avengers sweatshirts everywhere. Money's okay, but what I really like is working. ~ Stan Lee

the details of anything you love are
always what is most thrilling, most poignant,
most important.
i loved her as she rose from bed and fell back
against it again, and all she did in-between.
when you love someone you accept them,
you become them in a way, and all they
do forms into you. their mannerisms turn
into truth- the way she holds her favorite coffee mug,
the way she laughs, the way she smells, the way her lips
curl after certain words. all of the simple things
suddenly become gigantic things and light up the world
before you like a flame thrown into the clouds.
what a breathtaking display. the way
the earth begins to dissolve in your periphery
and a human being replaces it.

no matter what they tell you-
a person is a universe when truly
loved and anything less is not
love at all. ~ Christopher Poindexter

Given enough coffee I could rule the world ~ Terry Pratchett

Since I called her Wednesday and told her we're coming down, Jerra's been so beside herself, you'd think I told her I was bringing Charlie Hunnam home with me. She's called seven times. If we're even ten minutes late, she'll lose her mind." "Charlie who?" "Charlie Hunnam, Jax from Sons of Anarchy. She watches that show religiously. She has a Sons of Anarchy coffee mug. A Sons of Anarchy ashtray even though she doesn't smoke. A Sons of Anarchy t-shirt. And she has a Sons of Anarchy billfold that she actually uses that says, 'What would Gemma do?' She's told Hunter that if Charlie Hunnam shows up at the door and tells her she's the woman of his dreams, she's leaving him and their kids. Hunter is usually laidback about most stuff but seeing as he's half Mexican-American, half-WASP, dark-skinned, black-haired and looks absolutely nothing like Charlie Hunnam, not to mention he's ten years older than Charlie, he, for some reason, does not find this amusing. So, head's up, babe. Do not mention Sons of Anarchy and absolutely do not mention Charlie Hunnam or sparks will fly and I promise you'll get burned. ~ Kristen Ashley

She jumped to her feet and hurried off, returning only seconds later with a dark brown bottle and a coffee mug that said And then Buffy staked Edward. The End. ~ Heidi Betts

Hey, sleepyhead," Mom said brightly when I walked into the kitchen.
I grunted. Tara handed me my coffee mug. I filled it quickly, added my milk and sugar, and took my first sip.
"Watching Ash drink coffee is kinda like watching a werewolf movie," Tara said. "You can see the transformation from man into beast."
"Except for me, it's beast into girl, I know," I said sourly and took another sip.
"Want some pancakes?" Mom asked.
"No, thanks." I leaned against the counter.
"They're really good," Josh said. He was watching me like he was hoping to see the transformation that Tara was talking about. ~ Rachel Hawthorne

When I first started following writers on social media, I imagined a deluge of profound quotes, writing tips and insights into the plight of wordsmiths. There was some of that. Mostly though, my timeline was taken up with their obsession with coffee: 'I want coffee/I'm having coffee/I've had coffee.' Then came photos of their favourite coffee mug/pot/shop/barista. So, if you've enjoyed a recently-published book, give credit to writers: the vampiric aficionados of the coffee cherry. ~ Stewart Stafford

Demetrious was studying Law on the Open University and was, in all ways, a ray of sunshine into her life: warm and glorious, achingly temporary. He lived just off the high street with his boyfriend Rob, who worked in the City, doing something neither Demi nor Sukie pretended to understand.
"All the cute guys are gay," Sukie had laughed, that first day, holding her coffee mug high to her face to hide her genuine disappointment. Demi had just tilted his head and looked at her playfully, an expression she would get to know well.
"I'm not gay," he had clarified, matter-of-factly.
"Living with a boyfriend called Rob doesn't sound very straight!" Sukie had pointed out.
"Labels!" Demi had scorned, with one of his characteristic and very Greek hand gestures. "I fall in love with the person, not the gender. ~ Erin Lawless

When did having a life become an event you had to schedule? ~ Karen Marie Moning

The situation is a coffee mug, and I've got a handle on it. ~ Jarod Kintz

I dug in my heels and was unreasonable, and got rewarded for it. (Definitely adding that to the coffee mug slogan bin.) ~ Felicia Day

I'm really conscious of the amount of food I eat, but I don't deny myself anything. For example, I have a really big sweet tooth. At the end of the night, if I'm craving ice cream, I might not have the bowl that I would have when I was a kid, but I'll put a couple of scoops in a coffee mug, and I'll eat it slowly, and I enjoy every moment of it. ~ Summer Sanders

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

That was rather interesting,' Mercer said as he filled his coffee mug and passed the thermal carafe to John. 'What do you say for dinner? Blessed be the serial killers, or else the devil would have no one to torment. ~ Lynn Viehl

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

Have faith, Ed, all right?'
I search the coffee mug, but there's none in there. ~ Markus Zusak

Mellas continued to look at the wallet, saying nothing. Hawke, who had been watching Mellas through the steam that rose from his pear-can coffee mug, handed Mellas the cup. Mellas gave a brief smile and took a drink. His hand was shaking. Hawke said in a calm voice, 'Something happened. You want to talk about it?'

Mellas didn't answer right away. Then he said, 'I think I know where the gooks are.' He pulled out his map and pointed to the spot, his hand still trembling.

'How do you know that, Mel?' Hawke asked.

'From the direction he crawled after he was shot.' Mellas tossed the wallet down at Fitch. Then he dug into his pocket and pulled out the soldier's unit and rank patches. he looked at them, then at Fitch and Hawke, who were no longer eating. 'I let him crawl toward home with his guts hanging out.' He started sobbing. 'I just left him there.' Snot was streaming from his nose. 'I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.' His hands were now shaking with his body as he clenched the two pieces of cloth to his eyes. ~ Karl Marlantes

From the moment I put my mom's car in drive, my coffee mug still on the roof, I could tell it was going to be a rough day. The mug, which had been a cute gift from Dylan, went flying off the car and smashed into a million pieces. I gasped as I saw it spinning in the rearview mirror, falling in what seemed like slow motion until it hit the street, splattering my coffee and tiny pieces of porcelain across the road. ~ Charles Sheehan-Miles

Max's scarred brow crinkled. He reached for the coffee mug on his desk. "Motive is tricky. See, what might be a good reason for me to kill someone might not be a good enough reason for you to kill someone."
Swift stared at his hands loosely clasped around his ankle. "I wouldn't. Deliberately hurt anyone."
"And my impulse is to hurt anyone who hurts you." When Swift's gaze lifted to his, Max said, "See how that works?"
He did, and while it wasn't intended as a compliment, it did warm his heart in a funny way. He managed to joke, "Why, I think that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me. ~ Josh Lanyon

What... what are you doing here?"
He's shaking his head as he walks my way; a steaming coffee mug is in his hand.
"What am I doing here? I live here."
"Y-you do? How did I get here?"
He starts to laugh. "You don't remember?"
"No... I really don't."
He places the mug in front of me. "You called me on your cell. I found you spaced out of your mind in an alley behind the bar. You were talking to a cat. You claimed it was your mother. ~ Greg Logsted

I think at the end the Stasi had so much information,' the fair man says, 'that they thought everyone was an enemy, because everyone was under observation. I don't think they knew who was for them, or against, or whether everyone was just shutting up.' He is shy and looks at his hands, closed around his coffee mug, when he speaks. 'When I find a file where they've been watching a family in their living room for twenty years I ask myself: what sort of people are they who want all this knowledge for themselves? ~ Anna Funder

He raised a brow at another abrupt change in the conversation. "Are you disappointed I couldn't dodge a couple bullets?"
A real smile teased her lips as she lowered her coffee mug. "On the contrary, I'm a sucker for a guy with scars, so for your protection, we should probably stick to the case. ~ Lisa Kessler

And like that, I said goodbye to my grandmother like we were two people who met in a coffee shop, shared a lifetime of stories and left wanting more, but knowing we'd meet there again. ~ Darnell Lamont Walker

Fill yourself up with love. 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.
Live for yourself and be happy on your own. ~ Emery Allen

Sometimes it's not catastrophic. Sometimes you only come to the bottom of your coffee cup. Sometimes you have a good day. No one wants to know. No one wants to tell you about theirs either. You might somehow take it. Turn it against them. See the flaw. You always tell them the whole thing sucks. It keeps you alive. They figure if you're out there having a rotten time, everything's fine and you're doing your part. No one will ever try to take your bad times away from you but they'll come swarming for your happiness. ~ Henry Rollins

I think it's probably true that creative people are touched by melancholy more than the average person, and to the extent that delving into that shadow world produces good work, I'm all for it. But I think you have to be able to step back from the work, and say, "Look how miserable I felt. Look how beautifully I wrote about it. Now I'm going to get an iced coffee and chat with a friend." Writing should be a way out of despair. ~ David Starkey

I know. And when I wake up I'm here. It's okay; I'm okay, because I'm here. I don't want you to worry about me. I'll just feel guilty."
"I'll try to worry only a little so you'll only feel a little guilty."
"I guess that'll have to do." She shifted so they were nose-to-nose and heart-to-heart. "Don't change your routine because of this. That'll get me wired and worried. Besides, if you don't keep up with your predawn quest for world financial domination, how are you going to keep me in coffee? If you slack off, I'll have to find another Irish gazillion-aire with coffee bean connections. ~ J.D. Robb

People don't think of their office as a workplace anymore. They think of it as a stationary store with Danish. You want to get your pastry, your envelopes, your supplies, your toilet paper, six cups of coffee, and you go home. ~ Jerry Seinfeld

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'ts not just a cup of coffee !!!

"Coffee is lot like people"

Coffee is a language in itself.

In many ways,

It's Complex,

Just like Humans.

It's Dark,

Just like our Soul.

It's Black,

Just like Grief.

It's Addictive,

Just like love.

It's Pure,

Just like our heart.

It's Sweet,

Just like our Memories.

It's Strong yet Grind,

Just like our Determination.

It's Blended,

Just like our Feelings.

It's Tantalizing,

Just like our Emotions.

It's Rewarding,

As it is easy to Confess anything over a Cup of Coffee. ~ Shubham Chinchalkar

I grew up in the West End, so my whole background was living among theatres and musicals and the West End's coffee bars and clubs. It's kind of obvious that one day I should do something like that. ~ Cat Stevens

I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair, rubbed on body lotion, cleaned my ears. Then to the kitchen to heat up the last of the coffee. Only to discover: no one sitting at the opposite side of the table. Staring at that chair where no one sat, I felt like a tiny child in a De Chirico painting, left behind all alone in a foreign country. ~ Haruki Murakami

Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.
There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. ~ John Steinbeck

I am mad again, he thought. Tears brimmed. He swallowed in a tightened throat. I don't want to be. I'm tired, I'm tired and horny, I'm so tired I can't make sense out of any of it and my mind won't work right half the time I try. I'm thirsty. My head's all filled with kapok coffee wouldn't clear. Still, I wish I had some. Where am I going, what am I doing, stumbling in this smoking graveyard? It's not the pain; only that the pain keeps going on. He tried to let all his muscles go and stepped aimlessly from sidewalk to gutter, his mouth dryer and dryer and dryer. Well, he thought, if it hurts, it hurts. It's only pain. ~ Samuel R. Delany

I'm the only one in Tulsa, Oklahoma, that has Final Draft on my computer. Then you show up and go to any coffee shop in L.A., and there are a hundred people your age with Final Draft. ~ Bill Hader

No coffee shops or fog machines required [for church]. ~ Rachel Held Evans

Everything I loved had been dead for two centuries
or, as in the case of Graeco-Roman classicism, for two milenniums. I am never a part of anything around me
in everything I am an outsider. Should I find it possible to crawl backward through the Halls of Time to that age which is nearest my own fancy, I should doubtless be bawled out of the coffee-houses for heresy in religion, or else lampooned by John Dennis till I found refuge in the deep, silent Thames, that covers many another unfortunate. ~ H.P. Lovecraft

Sit down, have a nice cup of coffee read a book in another language - the fountain of youth! ~ Stephen D. Krashen

I was having coffee with my bodyguard. I didn't expect to be hunting bad guys until later. Leather before sundown is tacky. ~ Kim Harrison

We all sat there and looked at each other and didn't look at each other. We chewed gum, drank coffee, went into restrooms, urinated, slept. We sat on the hard benches and smoked cigarettes we didn't want to smoke. We looked at each other and didn't like what we saw. ~ Charles Bukowski

If heaven is tolerant and writers are allowed (bunch of liars though they are), I wonder if they gather for coffee to ponder the prose they should have written instead. ~ Lori Lansens

Eva sipped her coffee. Today, her hair was bound back in a singular knot, the sides rolled in smooth twists, the knot itself in the shape of the figure eight, which Delphine knew was the ancient sign for eternity. Eva rose and turned away, walked across the green squares of linoleum to punch some risen dough and cover it with towels. As Delphine watched, into her head there popped a strange notion: the idea that perhaps strongly experienced moments, as when Eva turned and the sun met her hair and for that one instant the symbol blazed out, those particular moments were eternal. Those moments actually went somewhere. Into a file of moments that existed out of time's range.. ~ Louise Erdrich

He put the book down. "As you wish." He rose and walked past me. I lowered my sword, expecting him to pass, but suddenly he stepped in dangerously close. "Welcome home. I'm glad you made it. There is coffee in the kitchen for you."
My mouth gaped open.
He inhaled my scent, bent close, about to kiss me ...
I just stood there like an idiot.
Curran smirked and whispered in my ear instead. "Psych."
And just like that, he was out the door and gone.
Oh boy. ~ Ilona Andrews

I took that smile and I put it right where the hole in my chest was. It was better than coffee, or chocolate, or a perfect pirouette. I clutched it and held it tight. ~ Cecil Castellucci

Just kick ass, chew bubble gum, and drink black coffee. ~ Christopher Josephs

We were talking of DRAGONS, Tolkien and I
In a Berkshire bar. The big workman
Who had sat silent and sucked his pipe
All the evening, from his empty mug
With gleaming eye glanced towards us:
"I seen 'em myself!" he said fiercely. ~ C.S. Lewis

Don't remain silent about what you want, or you may never get it."
"You are very wise," Kieran said gravely.
"Well," said Dru. "I actually saw that on a mug."
"Mugs in this world are very wise. ~ Cassandra Clare

A well-conceived product excels at what it does. It's close to being functionally flawless - like a Ziploc bag, a radio from Tivoli Audio, a Philips Sonicare toothbrush, a Nespresso coffee maker or Google's home page. ~ Gary Hamel

You say respect my elders, but what you mean is respecting my betters, is that not right? Are you so full of your own arrogance that you need me to bow and kowtow to you like some throwback fledgling? Or perhaps we should reinstate the role of concubines in our society. Then you may have the pleasure of claiming me and forcing me to fall to my knees, bowing low in respect of your masculine eminence!"
Gideon watched as she did just that, her gown billowing around her as she gracefully kneeled before him, so close to him that her knees touched the tips of his boots. She swept her hands to her sides, bowing her head until her forehead brushed the leather, her hair spilling like reams of heavy silk around his ankles.
The Ancient found himself unusually speechless, the strangest sensation creeping through him as he looked down at the exposed nape of her neck, the elegant line of her back. Unable to curb the impulse, Gideon lowered himself into a crouch, reaching beneath the cloak of coffee-colored hair to touch her flushed cheek. The heat of her anger radiated against his touch and he recognized it long before she turned her face up to him.
"Does this satisfy you, my lord Gideon?" she whispered fiercely, her eyes flashing like flinted steel and hard jade.
Gideon found himself searching her face intently, his eyes roaming over the high, aristocratic curves of her cheekbones, the amazingly full sculpture of her lips, the wide, accusing eyes that lay behind extrao ~ Jacquelyn Frank

He chuckled. She turned to see what was funny and nearly had a heart attack.
He was holding one hot-pink-and-white mug while reading it, the other sitting on the counter: 'Men should be like my curtains, easy to pull and well hung. ~ Terry Spear

Do you remember anything about last night?" he asked.
Her stomach churned as memories of the night before swam into mental view. Oh, she recalled a few things. How could she forget? She took a solid gulp of her coffee. "I remember vodka, an ax murderer, and a marriage proposal."
"Good. The important things." He nodded. ~ Kristin Miller

Coffee is one of life's little miracles. It gives you energy when you're tired, warms you when you're cold, and gives you something to hide behind when life keeps throwing shit your way. ~ Jay Bell

I just bought a can of brown paint. It's more expensive than coffee, but I really hit the wall after I chug it. ~ Jarod Kintz

I thought you didn't drink coffee," I said to Ranger. "What about your body being a temple?"
He sipped at the coffee. "It's my disguise. It goes with the haircut."
"Will you let your hair grow back?"
"Probably."
"And then you'll stop drinking coffee?"
"You ask a lot of questions," Ranger said.
"Just trying to figure this out. ~ Janet Evanovich

Christ," he said to the tiny reflection of himself that floated along the surface of his coffee,
"You have become quite the maudlin sop, haven't you? Laughing softly, he rubbed a hand over his face.
Step one on the road back to sanity, stop talking to yourself. ~ Kristen Callihan

She was made mostly of coffee and empty spaces. ~ Adelise M. Cullens

But can I say, now that she is dead, long dead that I only half believed in her. I wanted, I needed her to revolt. I know, revolutions take vast energy like volcanic eruptions. I know. And the sick must husband their resources even as they are resourceful for their husbands. But I couldn't help wanting for her, couldn't help the feeling that she'd given in, that she had measured out with coffee spoons what it was that she might ask of life and having found it lacking, tragically, gapingly lacking, had decided none-the-less to accept her modest share. I wanted her ignoble, irresponsible, unreasonable, petty, grasping, fucking greedy for the lot of it, jostling and spitting and clawing for every grain of life. ~ Claire Messud

Claudette looks down at the thing in her hand. She turns it one way and the other. It is a packet of Italian coffee, half used, left behind. Innocuous enough in itself but in Claudette's hands, this particular morning, it is as dangerous as cyanide.

She isn't going to sniff it, no, she isn't. She wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt such a thing. Just a whiff of those smoky, dark, aromatic granules – heated up they always were, at length, lovingly, every morning in this kitchen, for all the years he lived here, the way he would stand waiting for them to brew, looking out of that window, that robe of his loose over his pyjamas, a child, usually, on his shoulder or his arm – would be enough to tip her over the edge. She isn't going to do it.

Certainly not.

Then she does, of course. She removes the clip, she places it on the counter, she parts the top of the silver-and-red packet and she brings it to her face and she inhales, she inhales, she inhales. ~ Maggie O'Farrell

I've always had rock star envy. Unfortunately, writing is a pedestrian, tame occupation done while sitting in coffee-stained pajamas in front of a computer rather than prowling around a huge stage in sweaty leather pants, so I have to get my kicks vicariously. ~ Kate Christensen

She'd learned nearly every job and did each well, but her favorite was greeting the first early truck from the distribution center in Richmond that delivered the big rolling metal OTR package containers. She liked the predawn, enjoyed watching the sky get lighter and lighter as she wheeled the OTRs in from the dock inside the post office and unloaded them into the route hampers. She knew all the contract drivers from the private service the post office used, knew the sound each of their big trucks made as they backed up to the dock to unload the five to ten big OTRs that held up to fifty parcels each. Brakey Alcott was driving the truck this morning. He was young enough to be her son, always sucking down coffee like young people did to stay awake so early in the morning. ~ Catherine Coulter

Harrison knew how to date. He made plans to go to dinner at restaurants where they could drink margaritas and hear each other talk. He took her to movies and then to a diner for grilled cheese. He always paid. He called when he said he would, and held the door for her. The first night she stayed at his apartment, he woke up early and came back with two cups of coffee. ~ Jennifer Close

I found myself face to face with a long line of people resembling extras off the set of Night of the Living Dead: shuffling along, pale and twitching, empty cups in hand
murderous. Miserable. No matter that the air was rich with vapors of fresh-ground beans and warm muffins; no matter that the soft piped-in Vivaldi poured over us like steamed milk. These angry zombies were rushing to work, and their eyes flashed fair warning: Don't mess with us. We haven't had our coffee. ~ Joan Frank

Coffee is far more than a beverage. It is an invitation to life, disguised as a cup of warm liquid. It's a trumpet wakeup call or a gentle rousing hand on your shoulder ... Coffee is an experience, an offer, a rite of passage, a good excuse to get together. ~ Nichole Johnson

You realize you are turning me into some kind of machine?" he noted, nodding down at his HiThere poking through the towel. Simon took the time to place his zucchini bread safely on the coffee table."How cute is that? It's like he's poking his head out from behind a curtain!" I clapped my hands."You may not be aware, but as a general rule, no man likes the word cute in the same sentence as his junk. ~ Alice Clayton

There was a special Nolan idea about the coffee. It was their one great luxury. Mama made a big potful each morning and reheated it for dinner and supper and it got stronger as the day wore on. It was an awful lot of water and very little coffee but mama put a lump of chicory in it which made it taste strong and bitter. Each one was allowed three cups a day with milk. Other times you could help yourself to a cup of black coffee anytime you felt like it. Sometimes when you had nothing at all and it was raining and you were alone in the flat, it was wonderful to know that you could have something even though it was only a cup of black and bitter coffee.
Neeley and Francie loved coffee but seldom drank it. Today, as usual, Neeley let his coffee stand black and ate his condensed milk spread on bread. He sipped a little of the black coffee for the sake of formality. Mama poured out Francie's coffee and put the milk in it even though she knew that the child wouldn't drink it. ~ Betty Smith

When the Europeans conquered America, they opened gold and silver mines and established sugar, tobacco and cotton plantations. These mines and plantations became the mainstay of American production and export. The sugar plantations were particularly important. In the Middle Ages, sugar was a rare luxury in Europe. It was imported from the Middle East at prohibitive prices and used sparingly as a secret ingredient in delicacies and snake-oil medicines. After large sugar plantations were established in America, ever-increasing amounts of sugar began to reach Europe. The price of sugar dropped and Europe developed an insatiable sweet tooth. Entrepreneurs met this need by producing huge quantities of sweets: cakes, cookies, chocolate, candy, and sweetened beverages such as cocoa, coffee and tea. The annual sugar intake of the average Englishman rose from near zero in the early seventeenth century to around eighteen pounds in the early nineteenth century. ~ Yuval Noah Harari