Humans Taste Like Quotes

I have met people who insist that humans taste like veal. And one woman from Canada who will swear up and down that people, like most other things, taste a bit like chicken. But she was crazy. And also Canadian. ~ Warren Ellis

Kelly looked at the cop, then sighed. "What a cluster. I take it you haven't been killing young women and leaving their half-eaten bodies in the desert?"
Adam was ticked. I could tell it even if he was looking like a reasonably calm businessman. Adam's temper was the reason he wasn't one of Bran's werewolf poster boys. When angered, he often gave in to impulses he wouldn't otherwise have given in to.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Adam told Kelly in silky tones. "But I prefer rabbits. Humans taste like pork." And then he smiled. Kelly took an involuntary step backward.
Tony gave Adam a sharp look. "Let's not make things worse, if we can help it, gentlemen. ~ Patricia Briggs

We shoot our heroes and enjoy peripeteia as a spectacle akin to sport and perhaps harshly disavowing the past protects us from the disappointment of our outsized hopes--who knows, really, but shifts in taste don't fully account for the phenomenon. At any rate, nearly everything urgent and alive becomes doo-wop down the road, at least in this country's pop culture, and along the way a somewhat self-hating irony lays waste not only to the work but to the desires it once carried. It's like we die into adulthood. ~ Charles D'Ambrosio

One thing about my mother is that she has her taste: She knows what she likes and what looks good. It's not studied. There is no insecurity in what she is going to wear, and I think that translates into effortlessness. Her career has been a steady rise, and it hasn't been about the fashion of the moment. It's been because she has kept to her style. She didn't go grunge when it was grunge, or 70's when it was 70's. It's about being secure with what you like and not worrying about what's in fashion that particular day. That's what I admire about her. ~ Carolina Herrera

Pru had gotten under his skin, and like her, he wanted more. So much more. He wanted to know her secrets, the ones that sometimes put those shadows in her eyes. He wanted to know what made her tick. And more than anything, he wanted to taste her again.
Every inch of her. ~ Jill Shalvis

The Americans ... are almost ignorant of the art of music, one of the most elevating, innocent and refining of human tastes, whose influence on the habits and morals of a people is of the most beneficial tendency. ~ James F. Cooper

I like the notion of guiding, because I can offer advice through my own experiences, tastes and beliefs. But it's all in that individual's hands. ~ Erol Alkan

I've met a couple real cowboys in my life, and I've seen an awful lot of fellas who like to dress the part without any real need. Drugstore cowboys we used to call them. The real ones tend to be a lot less flash and sparkle, and tend to carry themselves with a lot more humility. I suppose the real work that cowboyin' involves helps a fella grow accustomed to the taste of humble pie. ~ Neil M. Hanson

Don't you like a rather foggy a in a wood in autumn? You'll find we shall be perfectly warm sitting in the car."
Jane said she'd never heard of anyone liking fogs before but she didn't mind trying. All three got in.
"That's why Camilla and I got married, "said Denniston as they drove off. "We both like Weather. Not this or that kind of weather, but just Weather. It's a useful taste if one lives in England."
"How ever did you learn to do that, Mr. Denniston?" said Jane. "I don't think I should ever learn to like rain and snow."
"It's the other way round," said Denniston. "Everyone begins as a child by liking Weather. You learn the art of disliking it as you grow up. Noticed it on a snowy day? The grown-ups are all going about with long faces, but look at the children - and the dogs? They know what snow's made for."
"I'm sure I hated wet days as a child," said Jane.
"That's because the grown-ups kept you in," said Camilla. "Any child loves rain if it's allowed to go out and paddle about in it. ~ C.S. Lewis

Today, Chanel sells nothing other than its griffe; the griffe is an absolute symbol for 'fashion' which, having become historical, is now able to sell this history better than it could sell fashion. Chanel's lasting success proves that fashion has become self-referential: the fetish of the mere name shows how it has begun to revolve around itself. The House of Chanel produces what Coco most abhorred: a thing of the past, dead. The visible, outwardly displayed griffe has become the opposite of individualized style: instead it confirms the latent uniform collectivity, which had always defined Chanel-wear; in the end, it signifies membership of an expensive club. The Chanel woman does not want to display her own taste, she wants to belong. In order to be certain, she is laden with Chanel signs and accessories, like amulets to protect against the evil eye; on the pocket, on the belt, on the dress buttons, on the watch, on costume jewelry, proudly stand the initials of the founder of the house, to which she knows she belongs. ~ Barbara Vinken

French parents are provided with very different information about food, and about children's eating habits, than American parents. This is because French doctors, teachers, nutritionists, and scientists, view the relationship between children, food and parenting very differently than do North Americans. They assume, for example, that all children will learn to like vegetables. And they have carefully studied strategies for getting them to do so. French psychologists and nutritionists have systematically assessed the average number of times children will have to taste new foods before they willingly agree to eat them: the average is seven, but most parenting books recommend between ten and fifteen. ~ Karen Le Billon

I've never awaited a kiss more in my whole life.
"It won't hurt, I promise." He husks throatily, lowering his head, blocking out the sun so all I see are twin blues and my own lust mirrored back in them.
I'm right. It's a kiss like no other I've had before.
He doesn't plunder, not at first.
His lips edge across mine - first the top, then the bottom, coaxing me to open. He presses lightly, teasing me almost into whimpering. Of course I want more, I'm out of my flipping mind wanting the kiss, so I drag at his shirt, as if to tell him to get on with it already and that's when his mouth opens, and my brain switches off.
His mouth lays waste to mine in a not-so-surprising and yet all arousing eating kiss that feels as though he's wolfing me down from the inside with each measured flick of his tongue. His taste floods through me, not a corner of my body is left out of the pleasure soaking out of Theo and into me.
He kisses like I've always wanted to be kissed by a man. ~ V. Theia

I started listening to the Cure around the time I discovered Joy Division and, like Joy Division, they have shaped my taste in all sorts of dark and dreary ways. ~ Danielle Trussoni

The taste of rotting, waxen oranges slid across my tongue, paying no attention to the fact that I was chewing on a wad of spearmint gum. Gran called it arrah-an aura. I was calling it danger candy nowadays. I always felt like spitting it out, but spitting would only make it worse.
Plus, spitting on a dance floor is damn rude. I was raised better. ~ Lili St. Crow

Sweet like liquor. Sweet like heroin. She's an addict's kind of bitter taste--my own personal hit of dope ~ Lana Sky

I love sushi. But after too much of it, it just starts to taste like a dead animal that hasn't been cooked. ~ Amy Lee

When you taste things in the right order, sometimes they taste so much different than if you taste them out of order. Not that there's a right order, like by rule, but just like in a thoughtful way that makes sense. ~ Mario Batali

I want to be intoxicated by the darkened ether of midnight, running through my fingers as sparkling stardust. I crave the taste of the ocean's salty tears, as her temperamental tides crash and break against the rocks. I yearn for the sweet scent of sun on my skin and the earthy musk of dirt giving way under my bare feet. I want to lay naked in golden fields, as i gaze up at an endless sky, dreaming my dreams, as Mother Nature's love washes over me like spiritual sunshine. ~ Jaeda DeWalt

The one thing I have learned about editing over the years is that you have to edit and publish out of your own tastes, enthusiasms, and concerns, and not out of notions or guesswork about what other people might like to read. ~ Norman Cousins

When I was a boy I first learned how much better water tastes when it has set a while in a cedar bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the hot July wind in Cedar trees smells. ~ William Faulkner

There's no reason whatsoever to drink eight glasses of water a day unless you, for whatever reason, particularly like the taste of water ~ John Green

For my part, I am almost contented just now, and very thankful. Gratitude is a divine emotion: it fills the heart, but not to bursting: it warms it, but not to fever. I like to taste leisurely of bliss: devoured in haste, I do not know its flavour. ~ Charlotte Bronte

A strange thing happens when you interview a robot. You feel an urge to be profound: to ask profound questions. I suppose it's an inter-species thing. Although if it is I wonder why I never try and be profound around my dog.
'What does electricity taste like?' I ask.
'Like a planet around a star,' Bina48 replies.
Which is either extraordinary or meaningless - I'm not sure which ~ Jon Ronson

Taste my breath, do you like it?
What comes next, you decide it
Tease you with my fingertips
Play with the haste that's on my lips
Hold me closer
And breathe into me ~ Marian Hill

It always seemed so ridiculous that want to be around someone because they're pretty.Is like basing your breakfast cereal on color instead of taste. ~ John Green

VI. If you were coming in the fall, I'd brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year, I'd wind the months in balls, And put them each in separate drawers, Until their time befalls. If only centuries delayed, I'd count them on my hand, Subtracting till my fingers dropped Into Van Diemen's land. If certain, when this life was out, That yours and mine should be, I'd toss it yonder like a rind, And taste eternity. But now, all ignorant of the length Of time's uncertain wing, It goads me, like the goblin bee, That will not state its sting. ~ Emily Dickinson

I'd like to believe an accumulation of experience has made me a sort of a grown-up person, so I can have judgment and taste and whatever. ~ Maurice Sendak

They had shared each other the way good friends can't even after forty years of it. He knew the boy and the boy knew him, because they each had a kind of searchlight in their heads, something they hadn't asked for, something that had just been given.

(Naw, you got a flashlight, he the one with the searchlight.)

And sometimes that light, that shine, seemed like a pretty nice thing. You could pick the horses, or like the boy had said, you could tell your daddy where his trunk was when it turned up missing. But that was only dressing, the sauce on the salad, and down below there was as much bitter vetch in that salad as there was cool cucumber. You could taste pain and death and tears. And now the boy was stuck in that place, and he would go. For the boy. Because, speaking to the boy, they had only been different colors when they used their mouths. So he would go. He would do what he could, because if he didn't, the boy was going to die right inside his head.

But because he was human he could not help a bitter wish that the cup had never been passed his way. ~ Stephen King

Letters to the Dead"

We read the letters of the dead like puzzled gods --
gods nevertheless, because we know what happened later.
We know what money wasn't repaid,
the widows who rushed to remarry.
Poor, unseeing dead,
deceived, fallible, toiling in solemn foolery.
We see the signs made behind their backs,
catch the rustle of ripped-up wills.
They sit there before us, ridiculous
as things perched on buttered bread,
or fling themselves after whisked-away hats.
Their bad taste -- Napoleon, steam and electricity,
deadly remedies for curable diseases,
the foolish apocalypse of St. John,
the false paradise on earth of Jean-Jacques . . .
Silently, we observe their pawns on the board
-- but shifted three squares on.
Everything they foresaw has happened quite differently,
or a little differently -- which is the same thing.
The most fervent stare trustingly into our eyes;
by their reckoning, they'll see perfection there. ~ Wisława Szymborska

You taste like sugar," he pants through a smile, still out of breath.
"Somehow I doubt that. But I appreciate the thought. ~ Addison Moore

It's like I have a loaded gun in my mouth and I like the taste of metal ~ Robert Downey, Jr.

Tom, will you let me love you in your restaurant?
i will let you make me a sandwich of your
invention and i will eat it and call
it a carolyn sandwich. then you will kiss my lips
and taste the mayonnaise and
that is how you shall love me in my restaurant.

Tom, will you come up to my empty beige
apartment and help me set up my daybed?
yes, and i will put the screws in loosely so that
when we move on it, later,
it will rock like a cradle and then you will know
you are my baby

Tom, I am sitting on my dirt bike on the deck.
Will you come out from the kitchen
and watch the people with me?
yes, and then we will race to your bedroom.
i will win and we will tangle up
on your comforter while the sweat rains from your
stomachs and foreheads.

Tom, the stars are sitting in tonight like gumball
gems in a little girl's
jewlery box. Later can we walk to the duck pond?
yes, and we can even go the long way past the
jungle gym. i will push you on
the swing, but promise me you'll hold tight. if
you fall i might disappear.

Tom, can we make a baby together? I want to be
a big pregnant woman with a
loved face and give you a squalling red daughter.
no, but i will come inside you and you will be
my daughter

Tom, will you stay the night with me and sleep
so close that we are one person,
no, but i will l ~ Carolyn Creedon

She stooped to pick a wild pink rose, avoiding the tiny spines that slivered like unseen glass hairs onto one's fingers. There was little scent, but the creamy softness of the petals like the insides of a dog's ear more than made up for it. She placed one on her tongue, and imagined she could taste the hills, the bittersweet tang of life. ~ Jonis Agee

On those luminous mornings Adela returned from the market, like Pomona emerging from the flames of day, spilling from her basket the coloful beauty of the sun –the shiny pink cherries full of juice under their transparent skins, the mysterious apricots in whose golden pulp lay the core of long afternoons. And next to that pure poetry of fruit, she unloaded sides of meat with their keyboard of ribs swollen with energy and strength, and seaweeds of vegetables like dead octopuses and squids–the raw material of meals with a yet undefined taste, the vegetative and terrestrial ingredients of dinner, exuding a wild and rustic smell. ~ Bruno Schulz

The popular distinction between 'constructive' and 'destructive' criticism is a sentimentality: the mind too weak to perceive in what respects the bad fails is not strong enough to appreciate in what the good succeeds. To be without discrimination is to be unable to praise. The critic who lets you know that he always looks for something to like in works he discusses is not telling you anything about the works or about art; he is saying 'see what a nice person I am. ~ Brigid Brophy

Arguments could fill a marriage like water, running through everything, always, with no taste or color but lots of noise. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

Just like salt makes sweet taste sweeter, trials make happy feel happier. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Twenty aspirin, a little slit alongside the veins of the arm, maybe even a bad half hour standing on a roof: We've all had those. And somewhat more dangerous things, like putting a gun in your mouth. But you put it there, you taste it, it's cold and greasy, your finger is on the trigger, and you find that a whole world lies between this moment and the moment you've been planning, when you'll pull the trigger. That world defeats you. You put the gun back in the drawer. You'll have to find another way. ~ Susanna Kaysen

I grew up in Deptford in south London, and at that time I used to wear toppers, loon pants and tonic suits from shops like Take 6 and Topman. I was a bit of a soul boy, but I had a very eclectic taste in music - I was into James Brown and Bowie; and I was the only kid in the neighbourhood who would also be listening to Chopin. ~ Gary Oldman

Everything about her is disastrous. She's nothing more than a mess."
"And yet?" he urged me on.
And yet, I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to be an odd character, a freak of nature. I wanted to stumble and laugh out loud. I wanted to find her beautiful disaster and mix it together with my own mess. I wanted the freedom she swam in, and her fearlessness of living in the moment.
I wanted to know what it meant to be a part of her world.
To be a man who felt everything.
I wanted to hold her, but still have her move freely in my arms. I wanted to taste her lips and breathe in a part of her soul as I gave her a glimpse of mine.
I didn't want to be her friend – now.
I wanted to be so much more. ~ Brittainy C. Cherry

Trace started to wave toward Matt, still with Priss wrapped around him, and she blurted, "I love you, Trace."
That effectively drew him to a halt. His hands contracted on her backside. "What?"
"I love you." Then she pointed at Chris, and to where Matt had disappeared. "They told me to fess up, so I am, and if you reject me, I swear I'll drown them both."
Very slowly, Trace's expression changed from the heat of anger to a different type of heat. "Say it again."
"Why?" She frowned at him with challenge. "Why don't you say something first?"
"All right." Sliding his hands up her back, over her shoulders, and into her wet hair, he kissed her. "You make me nuts, Priscilla." He turned his head and kissed her again, a little longer this time. "You make me hot as hell, too."
"I love you," Priss reminded him, hoping it might prompt him to a more telling declaration.
His next kiss lasted long enough to take the chill off the lake, and Priss got so wrapped up in the taste of him that she almost forgot what she wanted to hear.
Chris didn't. From the dock, he said, "If you're going to keep her waiting like this, someone needs to finish putting sunscreen on her."
Trace moved fast, grabbing for Chris's ankle, but Chris jumped back out of reach.
Priss, feeling very affected by that kiss, nuzzled Trace's neck and stroked his shoulders. He smelled delicious, felt even better. "Stop being a voyeur, Chris, and go away."
Having joined Chris o ~ Lori Foster

Think of the prequels like snap shots of a magical land you're about to visit soon. I like to think of them as poisoned apples ... once you taste them, you'll never see fairy tales in the same light again. ~ Cameron Jace

Random House, in the catbird seat, since it gets to recite last, declares in 1966, "The use of like in place of as is universally condemned by teachers and editors, notwithstanding its wide currency, especially in advertising slogans. Do as I say, not as I do does not admit of like instead of as. In an occasional idiomatic phrase, it is somewhat less offensive when substituted for as if (He raced down the street like crazy), but this example is clearly colloquial and not likely to be found in any but the most informal written contexts." I find this excellent. It even tells who will hurt you if you make a mistake, and it withholds aid and comfort from those friends of cancer and money, those greedy enemies of the language who teach our children to say after school, "Winston tastes good like a cigarette should. ~ Kurt Vonnegut

That's right.Forteen-year old boys have better taste than you.They think I'm hot." I licked my fingertip and stuck it on my butt. "Tsssss."
And with that,I propelled myself across the slope and skidded to a stop at one end of the trick rail. "Quick," I told the boys, "act like you think I'm hot."
Chloe cracked up.josh stared blankly at me.His friends blushed deep red,but they weren't claiming it.
"Thanks for your support," I told them. "Look without looking like your looking.Is Nick gone? ~ Jennifer Echols