Heslet Honey Quotes

That cat doesn't have a lick of sense,' I said, sighing.
Well, honey, he's not right in the head,' Dad said, flipping his cigarette into the front yard.
I glared at him. 'And just what do you mean by that?'
Dad counted on his fingers. 'He's cross-eyed; he jumps out of trees after birds and then doesn't land on his feet; he sleeps with his head smashed up against the wall, and the tip of his tail is crooked.'
Oh yeah? Well, how about this: he once got locked in a basement by evil Petey Scroggs in the middle of January and survived on snow and little frozen mice. When I'm cold at night he sleeps right on my face. Of that whole litter of kittens he came out of he's the only one left. One of his brothers didn't even have a butthole.'
I stand corrected. PeeDink is a survivor. ~ Haven Kimmel

Geographically the island had dramatic coastline of secret coves and forests. It was surrounded by water of turquoise color and reef. It had rich, fertile lands and a very hot temperature all year round. All year the temperature averaged 105 degrees. It got a bit cooler at night but people could still sleep under the stars and sky. It had very little rainfall and no snow or frost. Temperatures dropped a little in the winter". ~ Annette J. Dunlea

Matilda had never once stopped to think about where Miss Honey might be living. She had always regarded her purely as a teacher, a person who turned up out of nowhere and taught at school and then went away again. Do any of us children, she wondered, ever stop to ask ourselves where our teachers go when school is over for the day? Do we wonder if they live alone, or if there is a mother at home or a sister or a husband? ~ Roald Dahl

At last came the golden month of the wild folk-- honey-sweet May, when the birds come back, and the flowers come out, and the air is full of the sunrise scents and songs of the dawning year. ~ Samuel Scoville Jr.

Come here." Without regard for modesty, she pulled off her T-shirt and wadded it up to stanch his wounds. He splayed his fingers on her bare stomach and grinned. "Honey, I'm afraid I can't help you with that right now. Maybe later?" How could he joke and flirt when she was so afraid? "Max. You're bleeding. Maybe dying. I don't want to lose you."
"Come. Here." He grabbed her and pulled her down into the grass beside him. He pressed a kiss to her temple and rubbed his grizzled cheek against hers. The sirens were getting closer. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. You're the one who got shot. Twice."
"I'm gonna live through both. I'm a tough guy, remember?"
"Damn it, Max - "
"Rosemary March. Did you just swear? You know I don't like hearing that from you," he teased. He pulled her in for a kiss that lasted until a groan of pain forced him to come up for air. "You get under my skin, Rosie."
"Like an itchy rash?" she teased.
"Like an alarm clock finally waking me up to the life I'm supposed to have. With you."
So when did the tough guy learn to speak such beautiful things? Tears stung her eyes again as she found a spot where she could hug him without causing any pain.
"I know I'm not the guy you expected to want you like this, and I know you weren't the woman I was looking for. Hell, I wasn't even looking."
"Neither was I."
"But we found each other."
"We're good for each other."
"I'm not an easy man ~ Julie Miller

Even as I hold you
I think of you as someone gone
far, far away. Your eyes the color
of pennies in a bowl of dark honey
bringing sweet light to someone else
your black hair slipping through my fingers
is the flash of your head going
around a corner
your smile, breaking before me,
the flippant last turn
of a revolving door,
emptying you out, changed,
away from me.
Even as I hold you
I am letting go. ~ Alice Walker

My thoughts swim gently in ambrosia and warm honey as my eyelids flutter in ectasy. ~ Drew Gates

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. ~ Walter Raleigh

What do I taste like?"
"Well, like honey and cream and ... I dunno, bread?"
I scrunched up my nose. "Bread?"
"Yes. Sexy bread that I could eat all the time because you are so delicious and full of wholegrain goodness. ~ Kylie Scott

Some seasons later, the Princess of the kingdom was riding with her handmaiden on the edge of the dark woods. Though once she had been very ill, the Princess had recovered miraculously and was now married to a fine prince. She lived a full and happy life: walked and danced and sang, and enjoyed all the vast riches of health. They had a dear baby girl who was much loved and ate pure honey and drank the dew from rose petals and had beautiful butterflies for playthings. ~ Kate Morton

Loneliness comes suddenly like waves and recedes just as fast. That continues on forever. It's the same for you. It's the same for everyone. ~ Chica Umino

Bringing back the Golden Fleece," I repeated, mocking him. "As if it exists."
Castor frowned. "What's biting you? Of course it exists! We told you what Jason said. It belonged to a marvelous ram sent by the gods to rescue two royal children, Phrixus and Helle, from their murderous stepmother. A pity it wasn't a perfect rescue. Phrixus reached Colchis safely, but his sister, Helle, fell off in mid-flight and drowned. Jason says that's why the place where she plunged into the sea's called the Hellespont. If that doesn't prove the story's true, what will satisfy you?"
"Anyone can give a place a name," I said, rolling my eyes. "When I get home, I'll name that olive grove near our training ground Wolf Forest and see what happens. A ram with a fleece of real gold, a flying ram that could carry the children through the skies to Colchis, where there are dragons, oh yes, that's believable! That's worth risking your lives for on a voyage across the world! I'll bet you don't care if that story's true or not. You just want an excuse to go off chasing fame!"
Polydeuces set a honey cake on my already heaping plate. "There must be something waiting for us in Colchis, little sister," he said gently. "Maybe not the gold fleece of a flying ram, but something. Why would Jason go to the trouble and expense of outfitting a ship for such a long, dangerous voyage otherwise?" He smiled wistfully and added, "You mustn't worry about us. We'll come back; we'll be fine."
He was right ~ Esther M. Friesner

That's just their way, honey. His father was the same way with Dee. Axel the same with me. Greg and Melissa. Maddox and Emmy. Asher and Chelcie. My sweet Dani with Cohen. Heck, even Davey had his moment with Sway. These men, it's just how they are. When they set their minds to something there is nothing and no one that will hold them back. And sweetheart, before you even let this thought take root in your mind, when they know, they know and they know in a way that sticks forever. ~ Harper Sloan

What does that word mean?" Cassidy asked. Her voice was soft, sexy. Mind-blowing. "Querida, or whatever you said? I don't speak Spanish."
"It's a term of endearment. An Anglo might say darling or honey."
"What was the other one you used? Me ha?
"Mi ja. Short for mi hija. It's what you say to someone you care about."
She smiled. "When you say that you sound
I don't know
affectionate."
"Maybe I like cats," Diego said.
Cassidy rested her hand on his chest, and her smile widened. "Meow. ~ Jennifer Ashley

To love is to tilt with the lightning, two bodies routed by a single honey's sweet. ~ Pablo Neruda

Pile up gold, heap up silver, build covered walks, fill your house with slaves and the town with debtors, unless you lay to rest the passions of the soul, and put a curb on your insatiable desires, and rid yourself of fear and anxiety, you are but pouring out wine for a man in a fever, and giving honey to a man who is bilious, and laying out a sumptuous banquet for people who are suffering from dysentery, ~ Plutarch

I don't know if I can tell you, honey. When you live in New York, you often have the feeling that New York's not the world. I mean this: every time I come home, I feel like I'm coming back to the world, and when I leave Maycomb it's like leaving the world. It's silly. I can't explain it, and what makes it sillier is that I'd go stark raving living in Maycomb. ~ Harper Lee

Charity is a naked child, giving honey to a bee without wings. ~ Francis Quarles

I will arise and go now,
And go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there,
Of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there,
A hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there,
For peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning
To where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer,
And noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings

I will arise and go now,
For always night and day
I hear lake water lapping
With low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway
Or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core. ~ W.B.Yeats

Oh," said her husband, sounding deeply pleased at something he'd read in his letter.
"What?" Bridget sat up, inadvertently spilling several drops of honey on her breast.
Sadly, she succumbed to her husband's fondness for nudity soon after their marriage.
Valentine glanced up, but his gaze was immediately drawn to the honey slowly dripping down her breast.
"Val..." Bridget moved to scoop the honey up with her finger.
His hand darted out, catching hers.
"Oh, don't," he breathed, leaning over her, forcing her flat on her back.
He bent, closing his azure eyes, and licked her breast almost reverently.
She shuddered.
"It's the middle of the day," she whispered.
His eyes opened, wicked and amused. "I know. Your favorite."
She smiled up at him, threading her fingers through his golden hair. "I love you."
"And I love you," he murmured against her lips, before taking her mouth hard and possessively.
Their letters fell to the floor, abandoned, but Bridget didn't care at all.
She was with her true love and the world outside could wait. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

emptying out of my mother's belly
was my first act of disappearance
learning to shrink for a family
who likes their daughters invisible
was the second
the art of being empty
is simple
believe them when they say
you are nothing
repeat it to yourself
like a wish
i am nothing
i am nothing
i am nothing
so often
the only reason you know
you're still alive is from the
heaving of your chest ~ Rupi Kaur

The taste of moon is like honey to all honeymooners, but after some years does the moon's scar make it bitter? ~ Munia Khan

I'll be busy for the next eight weeks, so let's set this for November 15th.
MENU
I want lamb or venison steak. Baked potatoes with honey butter. Corn on the cob. Rolls. And apple pie, like the one you made before. I really liked it. I want it with ice cream.
You owe me one naked dinner, but I'm not a complete beast, so you can wear a bra and panties if you so wish. The blue ones with the bow will do.
Curran,
Beast Lord of Atlanta ~ Ilona Andrews

His skin smelled sweet, like milk and honey, and he'd shaved and trimmed his hair. Etta ran a hand over it.

"You're looking especially clean this morning," she said.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, "so I brought water up for a bath, and then more for you. The water should still be warm."

Pure joy exploded in her. "I could kiss you for that!"

"By all means," he said coyly. "Don't hold yourself back on my account. ~ Alexandra Bracken

He would have shaved the centaurs, dipped them in honey, covered them with feathers, and hung them up like a bunch of pinatas. I'm just saying. - Warren ~ Brandon Mull

Mahogany shelves lined the counters, stacked with glass bottles and jars, like something from a fairy tale. There were whole, plump roses steeping in honey; purple-stained sugar, thick with lavender, tiny jars of crimson threads, cherries and peaches suspended in syrup as if they had fallen there from the trees.
The luxurious scents wrapped around him. 'Butter,' his nose relayed, 'cream, nuts, brandy, chocolate... ~ Laura Madeleine

Shane, honey, in Morganville, friends are the only things that keep you alive. ~ Rachel Caine

And yeah, put out as I can be with Mama 'bout a lotta things, I gotta admit she gets all the credit for getting me interested in cooking when I was just knee-high to a grasshopper. Gladys never seemed to give a damn about it when we were kids, which I guess is why she and that family of hers nourish themselves today mainly on KFC and Whoppers and junk like that. But me, I couldn't keep my eyes off Mama when she'd fix a mess of short ribs, or cut out perfect rounds of buttermilk biscuit dough with a juice glass, or spread a thick, real shiny caramel icing over her 1-2-3-4 cakes. And I can remember like it was yesterday (must have been about 4 years old at the time) when she first let me help her bake cookies, especially the same jelly treats I still make today and could eat by the dozen if I didn't now have better control.
"Honey, start opening those jars on the counter," she said while she creamed butter and sugar with her Sunbeam electric hand mixer in the same wide, chipped bowl she used to make for biscuit dough. Strawberry, peach, and mint- the flavors never varied for Mama's jelly treats, and just the idea of making these cookies with anything but jelly and jam she'd put up herself the year before would have been inconceivable to Mama. ~ James Villas

The older woman waiting for admittance looked at me, then over her shoulder at Patch, who was vanishing down the hall. "Honey," she told me, "he looks slippery as soap. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Listen honey, would I lie to you to get in your pants? ~ Frank Zappa

His eyes are the color of honey. These are the eyes I remember from my dreams. ~ Lauren Oliver

Whats it like, to be in love? The servants speak of it when they think I can't hear. I only wonder."
Lia turned around and tossed the cushion back to the chaise lounge. She found she didn't have an answer to Mari's question. She couldn't say what she'd heard her sisters always say, It's thrilling, or It's bliss, or He makes me so happy. She raised her head and swallowed the strangeness in her throat, walking to the fireplace, to the pianoforte, pressing a finger against the honey-buffed wood.
"It is," she said at last, "the most terrible feeling in the entire world."
And she meant it.
"Yes," the girl agreed, examining her face. "I think it must be. ~ Shana Abe

She rode toward the sunset
in her fathers worn down car.
A breeze picked up strands of her hair
through the open window
while a cigarette burned between her lips.
He told her stories of honey and milk
as he replaced the grass with mud. ~ Rebecca Rijsdijk

As long as reading is for us the instigator whose magic keys have opened the door to those dwelling-places deep within us that we would not have known how to enter, its role in our lives is salutary. It becomes dangerous, on the other hand, when, instead of awakening us to the personal life of the mind, reading tends to take its place, when the truth no longer appears to us as an ideal which we can realize only by the intimate progress of our own thought and the efforts of our heart, but as something material, deposited between the leaves of books like a honey fully prepared by others and which we need only take the trouble to reach down from the shelves of libraries and then sample passively in a perfect repose of mind and body. ~ Marcel Proust

You okay, Bobert?"

He says pretty much what I expect: "I don't know how I'm going to pair Ramón. He'll drown Lisa."

Robert's pianist, a man named Luther, is pretty wonderful. "Can Luther carry the solos?"

"On piano?"

I shrug. "Just spitballing here."

He appears to consider it, and then shakes his head. "The songs don't lend themselves to keys. The strings have a richness, a vibrancy that the piano can't mimic. It needs to stir something inside you. Luther is amazing, but we need a musician who demands your attention. Who makes you feel."

The idea seems to heat my blood, and I straighten. "Wait. Wait." Robert looks up, confused. I hold up my hand. "An idea is forming in my brain."

His expression clears in understanding. "No, Buttercup."

"He's exactly what you're describing," I insist. "You've never heard him, but trust me - he is."

"He plays guitar. Honey, I know you're enamored, but - "

"It's not that, I swear. And he's not just some busker hanging out on the street. He's gifted, Robert. Listening to him play is like watching Luis onstage. I feel the notes. I know I'm not . . ." I search for words, flushing. Trying to tell Robert how to do his job is dangerous; he may be my uncle, but he's been a brilliant musician for much longer. "I'm not a trained musician like you are," I say carefully, "but I feel like classical guitar might work here. It's gentle ~ Christina Lauren

If he had two thoughts at the same time, they would throw a surprise party."

Martin Bartel regarding a less than stellar intellect, to his wife Roe Teagarden in "A Fool and His Honey ~ Charlaine Harris

how is it so easy for you
to be kind to people he askedmilk and honey dripped
from my lips as i answered cause people have not
been kind to me ~ Rupi Kaur

Children will draw pictures with everything in them ... houses and trees and people and animals ... and the sun AND the moon. Grown-up says, "That's a nice picture, Honey, but you put the moon and the sun in the sky at the same time and that isn't right." But the child is right! The sun and moon are in the sky at the same time. ~ R. Buckminster Fuller

Kane tuned up Honey for a few minutes, then he reached into his case and pulled out his ball cap with the American flag on it. He rotated it around in his hands and worked the bill a little bit. Thought about what he'd done for his country, and the friends he lost. He didn't regret any of it, even the parts that hurt. Loving his country wasn't something that required effort on his part - it came naturally. ~ Bart Hopkins

Oh honey, who cares if your blood is basically like vampire crack? Hello? Did you not get the memo? Vampires are hot! ~ Laura Lee

The human species was not born into a market economy. Bees won't sell you honey if you offer them an electronic funds transfer. The human species imagined money into existence, and it exists - for us, not mice or wasps - because we go on believing in it. ~ Eliezer Yudkowsky

Oh, nice one, honey. Yes. Clever. That's becoming quite a familiar quotation in its own right, isn't it? Maybe I should just add it to the next edition. 'Mother was right.' Author: Mrs. Bartlett, world-renowned nag. Year: 1859. Attribution: A short play entitled Every Goddamn Weekend! ~ John Bartlett

Money honey, if you want to get along with me. ~ Elvis Presley

Honey, that Totie Fields is one well-fed white woman. When that gal sits around the house, she sits around the house! ~ Moms Mabley

When you're out to get the honey you don't go killing all the bees ~ Joe Strummer

Love is a damage
made to the heart,
violence,
fate thats written,
Changeable by distance,
Breakable by time ... ! ~ Honey Father

It's the order of things: each one gets a taste of honey then the knife. ~ Charles Bukowski