Tasted Quotes

You shouldn't feel sorry for the lifestyle you haven't tasted, but for the one you are about to lose ~ Thucydides

There is scarcely a single joy or sorrow within the experience of our fellow-creatures which we have not tasted; yet the belief, in the good and beautiful has never forsaken us. It has been medicine to us in sickness, richness in poverty, and the best part of all that ever delighted us in health and success. ~ Leigh Hunt

I've got one more record. - Have you heard "So Long, Letty"? I suppose you have.'
'Honestly, you don't understand - I haven't heard a thing.'
Nor known, nor smelt, nor tasted he might have added; only hot cheeked girls in hot secret rooms. The young maidens he had known at New Haven in 1914 kissed men saying 'There!' hands at the man's chest to push him away. Now there was this scarcely saved waif of disaster bringing him the essence of a continent ... ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

Larry woke up with a hangover that was not too bad, a mouth that tasted as if a baby dragon had used it for a potty chair ~ Stephen King

she's worth it all.
She isn't meant for me.
She is worth it.
Because forbidden never tasted so good before. ~ V. Theia

We were always eating expired things. Milk, bread, biscuits, cake. We forgot about them as they sat around the house and just as they had gone bad, we put them in our mouths. Chocolates I brought back with me from Australia, cheeses in last year's Christmas hamper, juice from the last time someone decided to go grocery shopping. We didn't always realize they tasted funny – not everything curdles and a two-month-old orange can be just as sweet. When we did, it was usually too late. Sometimes it wasn't. We finished what we had started anyway. ~ Cheryl Julia Lee

You have tasted of death now," said the old man. "Is it good?"
"It is good," said Mossy. "It is better than life."
"No," said the old man: "it is only more life. ~ George MacDonald

History - the product, not the raw material - is a bottle with a label. For many years now, the emphasis of historical discussion has been laid upon the label (its iconography, its target-group of customers) and upon the interesting problems of manufacturing bottle-glass. The contents, on the other hand, are tasted in a knowing, perfunctory way and then spat out again. Only amateurs swallow them. ~ Neal Ascherson

Do you know I've been sitting here thinking to myself: that if I didn't believe in life, if I lost faith in the woman I love, lost faith in the order of things, were convinced in fact that everything is a disorderly, damnable, and perhaps devil-ridden chaos, if I were struck by every horror of man's disillusionment
still I should want to live. Having once tasted of the cup, I would not turn away from it till I had drained it! At thirty though, I shall be sure to leave the cup even if I've not emptied it, and turn away
where I don't know. But till I am thirty I know that my youth will triumph over everything
every disillusionment, every disgust with life. I've asked myself many times whether there is in the world any despair that could overcome this frantic thirst for life. And I've come to the conclusion that there isn't, that is until I am thirty. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The years of disillusion, the long debate of who-belongs-to-who, gathered at the mighty feet of the Bangladesh Liberation War like flood waters rising, gathering thick weeds and crusty dirt and pulling it all in one direction. At times, when the body count was high and the air tasted like bloody ash, the way mass graves smell, Sariyah had wondered what progress was supposed to taste like. Often it tasted like unanswered questions, stuck in the teeth. Bangladesh had given her the true answer, though: progress at its best is home-grown. It should taste like joy – pure, unhindered joy. Like the freshest sun-ripened mango on a tree, a little sunrise in her palm. ~ Katherine Russell

You Can Fly But Your Body Can't

My first seat was in first class between Penny and Belinda. Before I poured Rémy Martin down my throat and had to come see what the folks back here think of things.

316

'Cool out, you know, I didn't mean it, I don't really hate you,' I hear someone say.
While, over the intercom, the pilot jabbers. He's explaining that some dysfunction, once we're on the ground, can be easily fixed with a pin. I don't know, at that point, how much any of us will care. Maybe I'm drunk, but seems like they could give the plane to the Arabs once we've all made our connecting flights.

317

The beer nuts just served to me in a cello packet are the most delicious food I've ever tasted in my life.
Back at Dallas-Fort Worth I put an Otis Redding CD into my player and I doubt I'll ever have a reason to take it out.
Through the window, trigonometry, under a silky pink sky. ~ Mary Robison

His lips tasted cool and sharp, peppermint, winter, but his hands, soft on the back of my neck, promised long days and summer and forever. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You do not strike me as a Lothario. You're far too serious for the part.'
'Oh? I did give it a small try, if you recall. And your mouth tasted quite sweet. But perhaps I was too subtle?'
From an airy exchange of quips, he had suddenly moved onto solid ground ... 'You're a skillful flirt,' she managed. 'I will give you that.'
'And you're no flirt at all. Come, give it a try. Tell me how a rogue charms a woman, if not through sober, industrious application.'
Her lips twitched. 'That sounds like the factory brand of roguery. But all you need do is attend to a woman's vanity, I suppose.'
'Ah, yes. Of course. It comes back to me now; I've been going about it all wrong. THe first thing I should have said is that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.'
She laughed despite herself. 'That's a clever sort of compliment, seeing as it reserves you the right to change your mind with the next woman you meet. ~ Meredith Duran

I feel her hips push forward against mine.
And any blood left in my body descends, making me harder than I've ever been in my life.
Weeks of want and frustration are coursing through me. I've brushed with Colgate for far too
long - and it's tasted like shit. ~ Emma Chase

You didn't see what just happened. I did. Saw it, felt it, tasted it." His hand gripped and squeezed her thigh as if determining its strength. "You came so hard you nearly crushed my skull between your legs. If I wasn't so hardheaded, I'd be dead. ~ Shay Rucker

Mightily and long must a man strive within himself before he learn altogether to overcome himself, and to draw his whole affection towards God. When a man resteth upon himself, he easily slippeth away unto human comforts. But a true lover of Christ, and a diligent seeker after virtue, falleth not back upon those comforts, nor seeketh such sweetness as may be tasted and handled, but desireth rather hard exercises, and to undertake severe labours for Christ. ~ Thomas A Kempis

Peas baffled me. I could not understand why grown-ups would take things that tasted so good raw, and then put them in tins, and make them revolting. ~ Neil Gaiman

He who has never tasted jail Lives well within the legal pale, While he who's served a heavy sentence Renews the racket, not repentance. ~ Ogden Nash

You only tasted the water. I tasted the gift. The water was simply the container for an act of loving-kindness and nothing could be sweeter. ~ Michael Josephson

Existence is only in the present. Mind is never in the present. In fact, the moment you are in the present, there is no mind in you, there is great silence. The whole sky of your inner being is without thoughts, without clouds. I call this the state of no-mind. Only in this state of no-mind do you meet existence. And that meeting is the ultimate ecstasy. Once you have tasted it, you will never bother about the future. ~ Rajneesh

I tasted the salt on my own lips, and the bitter taste of blood on his. It was a desperate kiss, the sort of kiss that marks a lovers' parting, a kiss of sorrow and regret and a kind of blind and wordless promise. I would have risen up when it was finished, but he held me close, his hand stroking my hair. "I'll hurt your chest," I protested, but he shook his head. "I am past pain," he lied, "and I've always had a fancy to die in my lover's arms. 'Tis most romantic. ~ Susanna Kearsley

This prayer is not mental, but of the heart. It is not a prayer of thought alone, because the mind of man is so limited, that while it is occupied with one thing it cannot be thinking of another. But it is the PRAYER OF THE HEART, which cannot be interrupted by the occupations of the mind. Nothing can interrupt the prayer of the heart but unruly affections; and when once we have tasted of the love of God, it is impossible to find our delight in anything but Himself. ~ Jeanne Marie Bouvier De La Motte Guyon

Unbelievable," Audrey's voice squeaked as I pushed past her. "Here we are, talking to you about your freaky little-boy encounter back in Breaux Bridge and how your caramel macchiato tasted like cardboard, and boom! You just zone out like one of the kids from Children of the Corn."

"Um, Aud, babe … I don't think those kids zone out. They're just freaky twenty-four-seven. It's a year-round thing." Gabe's response drew a half-hearted laugh from me, but it was quickly reined in when I reached the Book of the Ancients.

"Whatever, Gabriel," Audrey said to him. "My point is, it's freaky, okay? She gets this glazed-over look in her eyes, like she's gonna whip out a butcher knife and go all Michael Myers on us or something."

I glanced over my shoulder to cock an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, now you pay attention." She cocked an eyebrow back.

"What is it with you and the cheesy horror-movie references?" Gabe muttered.

"Hey, now. Halloween is a classic," Gavin scolded him. "Don't go hating on the classics. ~ Rachael Wade

A likely story indeed!" said the Pigeon, in a tone of the deepest contempt. "I've seen a good many little girls in my time, but never one with such a neck as that! No, no! You're a serpent; and there's no use denying it. I suppose you'll be telling me next that you never tasted an egg!"
"I have tasted eggs, certainly," said Alice, who was a very truthful child; "but little girls eat eggs quite as much as serpents do, you know."
"I don't believe it," said the Pigeon; "but if they do, then they're a kind of serpent: that's all I can say. ~ Lewis Carroll

Laurel lifted his chin until their faces were even. Tamani closed his eyes and she could feel his jaw trembling under her hands. She brushed her lips over his, reveling in the velvety softness of his mouth against hers. When he didn't pull away, she pressed more firmly, knowing, somehow, that she had to move slowly, convince his tattered soul so carefully that she meant every word.
'I love you. And I'm asking you...' She opened her mouth slightly and gently scraped her teeth along his bottom lip, feeling his whole body shudder. 'No,' she amended, 'I'm begging you, to come be with me.' And she pressed her mouth against his and murmured, 'Forever.'
For a few seconds he didn't respond.
Then a groan escaped his throat and he thrust his fingers into her hair, pulling her mouth to his with a fierce hunger.
'Kiss me,' she whispered. 'And don't stop.'
His mouth enveloped hers again and their shared sweetness tasted like ambrosia as he caressed her eyelids, her ears her neck, and Laurel marveled at the strangeness of the world. She had loved him, had always loved him. She had even known it, somehow.
'Are you sure?' Tamani murmured, his lips softly grazing her ears.
'I am so sure,' Laurel said, her hands clutching the front of his shirt.
'What changed?' He pushed her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her temples, just brushing her eyelashes.
Laurel sobered. 'When I brought you the potion, I thought I was too late. And I had ~ Aprilynne Pike

Mermaid queens didn't often have a reason to move quickly. There were no wars to direct, no assassination attempts to evade, no crowds of clamoring admirers to avoid among the merfolk. In fact, slowness and calm were expected of royalty.
So Ariel found herself thoroughly enjoying the exercise as she beat her tail against the water- even as it winded her a little. She missed dashing through shipwrecks with Flounder, fleeing sharks, trying to scoot back home before curfew. She loved the feel of her powerful muscles, the way the current cut around her when she twisted her shoulders to go faster.
She hadn't been this far up in years and gulped as the pressure of the deep faded. She clicked her ears, readying them for the change of environment. Colors faded and transformed around her from the dark, heady slate of the ocean bottom to the soothing azure of the middle depths and finally lightening to the electric, magical periwinkle that heralded the burst into daylight.
She hadn't planned to break through the surface triumphantly. She wouldn't give it that power. Her plan was to take it slow and rise like a whale. Casually, unperturbed, like Ooh, here I am.
But somehow her tail kicked in twice as hard the last few feet, and she exploded into the warm sunlit air like she had been drowning.
She gulped again and tasted the breeze- dry in her mouth; salt and pine and far-distant fires and a thousand alien scents. ~ Liz Braswell

She tasted like whiskey and bad choices, ~ Elizabeth Kelly

I was right. Cat food tasted worse on the way up. As my best friend Mel would've said in my situation: "Somebody better get some mothertrucking filet mignon up in this bitch, or I will MUTINY. ~ Kresley Cole

I asked God "Why, why, why?" I turned my face away and wished that I were imagining it all. I had tasted the bitterest essence of war, the sight of helpless comrades being slaughtered, and it filled me with disgust. ~ Eugene B. Sledge

I would never ask a person who hasn't tasted a dish whether it needs more salt. ~ Lesley Nneka Arimah

I tasted - careless - then -
I did not know the Wine
Came once a World - Did you?
Oh, had you told me so -
This Thirst would blister - easier - now ~ Emily Dickinson

My soul tasted that heavenly food, which gives new appetite while it satiates. ~ Dante Alighieri

I want you," she said. "Naked."

His nostrils flared as if he was soaking in the scent of her arousal. "Tally, honey, I can't get any more naked. That's my cock you're playing with."

She grazed him lightly, very lightly, with her teeth for that remark. He swore again but didn't make any attempt to take control. "I want you," she said, "naked and on your front."

"Why?" A suspicious growl.

"So I can stroke you. Pet you. Love you." She ran her nails along the inside of one thigh, felt him shudder. "At least half an hour." Bending again, she closed her mouth over the top of his erection without warning. Something definitely tore this time.

"Fuck!"

She released him. "Yes?"

"Yes! Damn it, yes! Now suck me or I'm going to have you on your back so fast, you'll - " His threat ended in a roar as she took as much of him in her mouth as she could fit.

Clay, she decided, tasted good. Very good. She liked giving him this pleasure. But more, she liked that he allowed her to see the extremity of his reaction, no holds barred. So she loved him, learned him, tasted him. And when he tugged at her hair to pull her off him, she resisted. ~ Nalini Singh

[I]t was with a good end in mind – that of acquiring the knowledge of good and evil – that Eve allowed herself to be carried away and eat the forbidden fruit. But Adam was not moved by this desire for knowledge, but simply by greed: he ate it because he heard Eve say it tasted good. ~ Moderata Fonte

The lake comes to the fringe while lights go up around the bay. Somewhere near, cow flesh is singed. Smoke floats above the walkway. I've eaten green that comes up black, risen cold from torrid mud. I've licked my paws and tasted blood. What is this world of busy lies? Some urban genie feeding food to flies! ~ Andre Alexis

Jimmy Grants is my first stop every time I go home to Australia. They make the best souvlakis you have ever tasted. ~ Mallory Jansen

Some books should be tasted,
Some devoured,
But only a few
Should be chewed and digested
Thoroughly ~ Cornelia Funke

Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted

For my sake the fruit forbidden?

Must your light like mine be hidden,

Your young life like mine be wasted,

Undone in mine undoing,

And ruined in my ruin,

Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?' -

She clung about her sister,

Kissed and kissed and kissed her:

Tears once again

Refreshed her shrunken eyes,

Dropping like rain

After long sultry drouth;

Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,

She kissed and kissed her with a hungry mouth.

Her lips began to scorch,

That juice was wormwood to her tongue,

She loathed the feast:

Writhing as one possessed she leaped and sung,

Rent all her robe, and wrung Her hands in lamentable haste... ~ Christina Rossetti

Like a sudden thaw in the middle of winter, grace happens at unexpected moments. It stops us short, catches the breath, disarms. If we manipulate it, try to control it, somehow earn it, that would not be grace. Yet not everyone has tasted of that amazing grace, and not everyone believes in it. ~ Philip Yancey

Every day she would spread her wings and tell herself today was the day she would fly - but every day a quiet, hateful old witch told her if she tried even once, she would fall. Told her little girls weren't meant to fly. Little girls were meant to stay at home and be pretty, and as long as she did that all the good things in the world would come to her." The words tasted foul. "And the little girl, who used to be fearless, learned fear. Just a little more each day, until her wings grew too heavy to lift her and her fear weighed her down to earth. ~ Cole McCade

The difference of a single day is perceptible. Vegetables can only be tasted in perfection, gathered the same day. ~ John Pintard

If he couldn't think of anything on his own, he could quote lines from his favorite Prince song, tell her how his stomach trembled, that she had his butterflies all tied up.
But he just kissed her.
He might keep kissing her forever, not thinking about the consequences or meaning behind anything. She tasted so good and felt so warm, she filled his head to the brink, and when she shifted closer, his brain emptied, and he went spiraling ~ Ophelia London

I tasted perfection, like a Lindt chocolate with all that soft and tasty core. I wasn't sure what flavor would be "perfection," but it didn't matter because she wasn't a fucking a chocolate ball. In that moment, she wasn't even Emma, she was mine ~ Morgan Parker

Ah, now I see. It was in the center of the dorayaki! Right there underneath the insignia...
she added apple confiture to the filling!"
Confiture!
What the heck is that?!
"Confiture is the French word for jams and marmalades. It seems she's made her own special apple jam blended with a hint of ginger!
The tart juiciness and fruity richness of the jam melds seamlessly with the ginger's flavor. When tasted together with the apple chunks and dorayaki crust, it jumps out at you in a brilliant flash of deliciousness! ~ Yuto Tsukuda

She was luxuriously tired and her muscles felt sore from the unaccustomed strain of riding astride. Nothing had ever tasted so good as the cool golden ale she swallowed from a pewter tankard. She slept deeply that night and longer than she had intended ... ~ Kathleen Winsor

I've been dying to know," he said again, "how you taste."
Oh, hell. Her right hand grabbed the back of his head, and she yanked him down toward her.
Their mouths met. Open. Ready. Lips kissed. Tongues licked. And - damn!
Yes, she wanted.
The control she'd held so tightly began to crack. She jerked in her seat, struggling to press against him. He took her mouth. Tasted her. Tormented her. And she met him. No, she fought him, fought him for more. ~ Cynthia Eden

Her tongue was in his mouth, and oh, Jesus, God, she tasted good. Like coffee and brandy and woman. Any thought of resistance fled.
She kissed him endlessly, again and again and again, like she was starving. Like she might never get enough. Like she could eat him alive. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever known. ~ Norah Wilson

I knew about wild plums twice before I tasted any. ~ Grace Stone Coates

I've climbed the high mountains an sailed the wide seas Fair faces a-plenty I've gazed on But with one glance, her beauty sent me to my knees, O hard-hearted Annie I never shall please. I've roved an I've rambled all o'er the wide world And kisses a-plenty I've tasted But it's her wine-sweet lips that I'm still dreaming of O hard-hearted Annie, cruel Annie my love. I've loved many women an wooed many girls And many soft arms have embraced me If only she'd lie with me one fleeting night With hard-hearted Annie I'd die of delight. Oh many fine beauties did beg me to stay But none until Annie did snare me Though she hurts me an shuns me an makes my heart bleed My hard-hearted Annie I never shall leave. I ~ Moira Young

These are delicious! What are they?"
"Double chocolate chip with peanut butter filling."
"They're the second best thing I've ever tasted."
I laughed. "You said the same thing at dinner."
"I recently readjusted the ranking. ~ Colleen Houck

You're still holding my arm."
"I know."
So this was it, she thought, and struggled to keep her voice. "Should I ask you to let go?"
"I wouldn't bother."
She drew a deep, steadying breath. "All right. What do you want, Roman?"
"To get this out of the way, for both of us."
He rose. Her step backward was instinctive, and much more surprising to her than to him. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Neither do I." With his free hand, he gathered up her hair. It was soft, as he'd known it would be. Thick and full and so soft that his fingers dived in and were lost. "But I'd rather regret something I did than something I didn't do."
"I'd rather not regret at all."
"Too late." He heard her suck in her breath as he yanked her against him. "One way or the other, we'll both have plenty to regret."
He was deliberately rough. He knew how to be gentle, though he rarely put the knowledge into practice. With her, he could have been. Perhaps because he knew that, he shoved aside any desire for tenderness. He wanted to frighten her, to make certain that when he let her go she would run, run away from him, because he wanted so badly for her to run to him.
Buried deep in his mind was the hope that he could make her afraid enough, repelled enough, to send him packing. If she did, she would be safe from him, and he from her. He thought he could accomplish it quickly. Then, suddenly, it was impossible to think at all.
She tasted like heav ~ Nora Roberts

It was wintertime. I was starving to death trying to be a writer in New York. I hadn't eaten for three or four days. So, I finally said, "I'm gonna have a big bag of popcorn." And God, I hadn't tasted food for so long, it was so good. Each kernel, you know, each one was like a steak! I chewed and it would just drop into my poor stomach. My stomach would say, "THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!" I was in heaven, just walking along, and two guys happened by, and one said to the other, "Jesus Christ!" The other one said, "What was it?" "Did you see that guy eating popcorn? God, it was awful!" And so I couldn't enjoy the rest of the popcorn. I thought; what do you mean, "it was awful?" I'm in heaven here. I guess I was kinda dirty. They can always tell a fucked-up guy. ~ Charles Bukowski

Power tasted like an oyster, like I'd swallowed the sea, all it's memories and calm and rot and brutality. ~ Jillian Lauren

War is sweet to those who haven't tasted it. Dulce bellum inexpertis. ~ Desiderius Erasmus

What do you know of great love? Have you ever loved a woman until milk leaked from her as though she had just given birth to love itself, and now must feed it or burst? Have you ever tasted a woman until she believed that she could be satisfied only by consuming the tongue that had devoured her? Have you ever loved a woman so completely that the sound of your voice in her ear could cause her body to shudder and explode with such intense pleasure that only weeping could bring her full release? ~ Don Juan DeMarco

That power he had to deplete things before getting them, that stark premonition he had of "afterward" ...Before taking the first step toward action, he had already tasted the saturation and sorrow that follow victories... ~ Clarice Lispector

He finally moved, walking those few feet between them. Without hesitation, his hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her hand slid up his arm all by itself, grasping the hard muscles there. The warmth that seemed a natural part of him spread into her. Smoothly, his mouth found hers, gently grazing her lips before settling more firmly. She moaned as he tasted her, coaxing her to open for him. When she did, her eyelids fluttered shut and the whole world utterly disappeared. ~ Dee Tenorio

Kissing Jack was dangerous, like drowning in something that tasted good. He was like the artery-clogging chocolate cake she couldn't resist, heaven in her mouth but hell on her heart. ~ Amanda Usen

You will soon learn that there ARE no strange stars, no alien skies"
- No?
"Only skies and stars, in all their varieties. Each one with its own flavour, and all flavours good"
- Now YOU think like a tree. Flavours! Of skies!
"I have tasted the heat of many stars, and all of them were sweet ~ Orson Scott Card

You tasted it. Isn't that enough? Of what do you ever get more than a taste? That's all we're given in life, that's all we're given of life. A taste. There is no more. ~ Philip Roth

I found him in the kitchen, at the table in the bay window, already eating his cereal.
"I was going to fix you breakfast," I said.
He grinned. "I wouldn't want you to put yourself out."
"No one can pour cereal like I can. That's true."
I crossed the kitchen. He scooted his chair back, and I sat on his lap and put my arms on his shoulders.
"Good morning," I said, right before I kissed him.
Oh, yes, this was definitely the way to start the day.
"We're in the house," he said when we stopped kissing. "Thought we had a rule about not kissing in the house."
"Yeah, we also had a house rule--no falling for the player living with us. You see how good I am at following rules."
He grinned. "Lucky for me. Why don't you come to Ruby Tuesday for lunch?"
"Okay."
"Then practice."
"Definitely."
"Maybe we could do something afterward."
"Absolutely."
He kissed me again. He tasted like bran flakes and raisins and bananas.
Me, I tasted like chocolate chip cookie dough.
It was an odd combination but it somehow worked. ~ Rachel Hawthorne

If you have not tasted poverty, you will not be able to manage blessing when it comes. If you have not tasted humiliation, you will not be able to manage honour when it comes. ~ T. B. Joshua

Communism...muat of necessity be a saddening process for anyone who has ever tasted the intellectual pleasures of the world we live in. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

I want to know your story. I want to know you. I want - oh, fuck it. Ren cupped my cheek, his hand gentle as he tilted my head back, and before my heart could take another beat, he kissed me. It was no slow or seductive kiss. He claimed my lips as if he were laying claim to my body, to my soul, and every part of me. His mouth was demanding as he tilted his head, his lips moving over mine, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, willing them to part, and I ... I opened for him. My lips parted, and he made this sound, this deep animalistic groan that sent flames lapping over my skin. The kiss deepened, and his tongue slid over mine, along the roof of my mouth. He took me with his mouth, tasted me and claimed me. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Kisses that danced with smiles tasted amazing. ~ Debra Anastasia

I am living through days as happy as those God keeps for his chosen people; and whatever becomes of me, I can never say that I have not tasted the purest joys of life. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

He couldn't look back at the children. He couldn't think of it. All he could do was watch the eyes of his wife.
He pulled her to him, her body soft, her skin warm. She was life, she was his. He took her lips and tasted his freedom once more. The subtle tenderness. The hope hidden in joined breath. He took it into himself. Soaking in the peace that came with it.
And even as the rustling began he felt still, he felt calm. Scratching and scrapping within the stones, and the rustle of wings. But all Eli knew was the nature of love. ~ Rachel A. Marks

He tasted of earth and water, fire and ice, salvation and destruction all together in a tender kiss that held me captive throughout a stolen moment in time. ~ Bella J.

John's coffee, which tasted like battery acid someone had pissed in then cursed at for several hours. ~ David Wong

I love Graham Larkin," she said quietly, her voice full of emotion, and there was a flicker of surprise on his face, and then his expression softened. "You're supposed to shout it," he said, smiling as she tugged on the brim of the cap, forcing him to lower his face, bringing him closer and closer until their lips met. And even though they were in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world, lost in a sea of concrete and wood and metal, she could almost swear he tasted like the ocean. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

It looked like a piano sounds shortly after being dropped down a well. It tasted yellow, and felt Paisley. It smelled like a total eclipse of the moon. Of course, nearer to the tower it got really weird. ~ Terry Pratchett

Do not focus your gaze on things that are wrong, for what you see, slowly begins to penetrate you. You are addicted to fixing your eyes on the wrong; you pay attention only to what is wrong inside you. The angry man concentrates on his anger, and how to get rid of it. Though he wants to get rid of the anger, he is actually concentrating on that white line of anger within him; the more he concentrates the more he is hypnotized by it.

Don't worry! Everybody is! Don't focus your eyes on the anger, but concentrate on compassion. Concentrate on what is right. As the right gets more and more energy, the strength of the wrong gets weaker and weaker. Ultimately it will disappear. This happens because energy is one; you cannot use it in two ways. If you have utilized your energy in becoming peaceful, you would have no energy for restlessness. All your energy has moved towards peace, and if you have had a taste of peace and serenity, why bother to become restless? You can maintain your restlessness only if you have never known the flavour of serenity. You can dive into the pleasures of the world only if you have not tasted the divine. ~ Osho

Go run away Over the cloud And over the cliff And jump into the mouth of God And be tasted And the whole thing is over When you flip through the air. ~ Arthur L. Carson

I leaned out one last time and caught a snowflake on my tongue. They tasted so good, so pure and so divine, like nothing I had ever tasted from the sky. It was as if happiness spread through your body with the cold, but then disappeared and brought depression, all in less then two seconds. It was unbelievable, and yet, addicting. ~ Shannon A. Thompson

She tasted like run, root beer, and something wild he couldn't place, but it didn't matter.
He wanted more.
Craved it. ~ Lisa Kessler

Ivypool backed away. She twisted and ducked under him as he leaped, but his claws sank into her tail and pinned her to the ground. Thistleclaw and Snowtuft attacked from opposite sides, snarling, slicing her ears. She struggled away from them, crashing into hard muscle. Hawkfrost was behind her now. He stabbed his claws into her shoulders. With a gasp, Ivypool saw his teeth flashing beside her throat. Then a black pelt flashed over the top of the gorse. Paws landed with a thump beside her.
"Get off her!" Hollyleaf yowled.
Ivypool's world spun as the black warrior slammed into Hawkfrost and sent him reeling into the gorse. Free from Hawkfrost's claws, Ivypool turned on Thistleclaw and Snowtuft. She began slashing with her front paws, remembering in a crystalline moment every moon of training. Hollyleaf reared up beside her, matching her blow for blow, as though she instinctively knew where Ivypool would strike next. Blood sprayed the forest floor as Ivypool sliced Snowtuft's muzzle and tore Thistleclaw's nose. Turning she kicked with hind legs and knocked Thistleclaw backward, then sank her teeth into Snowtuft's neck.
The white warrior screeched and ripped free from her jaws. Ivypool tasted his blood as he hared away through the bracken. She met Thistleclaw's gaze. Fear sparked in his eyes as she spat out a bloody clump of Snowtuft's fur.
"Run," she hissed. "Because if you stay, I will kill you".
Mouth open, Thistleclaw fled, disappearing through the ~ Erin Hunter

Nostos algos. I want to go home. A phrase that's stuck on a loop, that I hear before falling asleep, waiting in line for my coffee, tapping the elevator button and rising through the sky to my apartment...and yet my desire is not attached to a particular place...I want to go home but what I mean, what I'm grasping for, is not a place. It's a feeling. I want to go back. But back where? Maybe to the first time I heard Stevie Nicks, to watching the snow fall outside the window with a paperback folded open in my lap, to the moment before I tasted alcohol, to virginity and not really knowing that things die, back to believing that something great is still up ahead, back to before I made the choices that would hem me in to the life I live now. A life that I regret sometimes, I think, only because it's mine, because it's turned out this way and not some other way, because I can't go back and change what will happen. ~ Julie Buntin

The immediate occasion of this practice was the lowness of wages, which at that time would not allow them to indulge in ale or spirits, and wages rising, it may be thought that this practice would cease; but as I do not readily believe that any man having once tasted the divine luxuries of opium will afterwards descend to the gross and mortal enjoyments of alcohol, I take it for granted,
That those eat now who never ate before;
And those who always ate, now eat the more. ~ Thomas De Quincey

I've tasted the deep satisfaction of God and I know all other things are but cheap imitations. And I don't want to be enamored by the lesser things wrought with momentary pleasure. ~ Lysa TerKeurst

Can you ask the bartender to make me something nonalcoholic that isn't sweet?'... What he got was a coupe glass filled with something that tasted a little like tea, a little like soda, and a lot like belonging. It was delicious. ~ Kristi Coulter

Number theorists are like lotus-eaters
having once tasted of this food they can never give it up. ~ Leopold Kronecker

The goddess of assassins has tasted my blood, he thought, and he wondered if she liked it, and wanted more. ~ Laini Taylor

On the delivery plate of the Nutri-Matic Drink Synthesizer was a small tray, on which say three bone china cups and saucers, a bone china jug of milk, a silver teapot full of the best tea Arthur had ever tasted and a small printed note saying Wait. ~ Douglas Adams

After that, I felt like I had two lives. There was the me I had been before the attack, the one people knew and wanted to relate to. The one people wanted to comfort and fix. And there was another me, a hidden me that no one ever saw. There was a me who had tasted death. That me knew things others people didn't know. ~ Maureen Johnson

She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you…"
"Right, but remember, I don't like the beard too long--"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, this isn't about looking handsome--"
"It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time."
Hermione sighed and set to work, muttering under her breath as she transformed various aspects of Ron's appearance. He was to be given a completely fake identity, and they were trusting to the malevolent aura cast by Bellatrix to protect him. Meanwhile Harry and Griphook were to be concealed under the Indivisibility Cloak.
"There," said Hermione, "how does he look, Harry?"
It was just possible to discern Ron under his disguise, but only, Harry thought, because he knew him so well. Ron's hair was now long and wavy; he had a thick brown beard and mustache, no freckles, a short, broad nose, and heavy eyebrows.
"Well, he's not my type, but he'll do," said Harry. ~ J.K. Rowling

Paris is a sensuous woman every man has loved, even if only in his dreams. Once he has been deep inside her, walked her streets and tasted her delights, he can never forget her. Yet no matter how strong the memory of her remains, it cannot prepare him for the sheer beauty of her nakedness as he gazes upon her for the second time; the intoxicating fragrance of her hair as it brushes against him as it did when she let him love her; the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips as he strokes her breathtakingly graceful form; or the searing fire which courses through every fiber of his soul now that she is within reach.

For every man blessed with a woman's love, she is a shrine to his happiness now that he need search no more. But for those who reside in obscurity within the lonely domicile of an empty heart, she is the hope of finding love. In his tortured heart, love waits for him at a corner cafe in the woman's smile two tables away; it lingers in the melodic laughter of a girl riding past him on a bicycle; and sometimes, when the woman is smiling at someone else, and the girl rides past him without notice, he finds love beneath the skirt of the darkly sensual woman waiting for him under a streetlamp. ~ Bobby Underwood

My Dearest Breena,

They will remember us. Long after these wars have been mourned and then forgotten long after Summer and Winter fairies lay aside their rancor for one another and forget that they have ever tasted hatred they will remember – Summer fairies and Winter too – of a fairy king who loved his queen. - Prince Kian ~ Kailin Gow

Once you have tasted the nectar of Silence, then whether your eyes are open or closed does not matter. Once you have tasted the nectar of that dimension, then it does not matter whether you are sitting in a room or working in an office or the kitchen or talking to people. The quality of aloneness, the quality of motionlessness, the quality of thoughtfreeness does not get affected by physical or verbal movement. ~ Vimala Thakar

Sound has a profound effect on the senses. It can be both herd and felt. It can even be seen with the mind's eye. It can almost be tasted and smelled. Sound can evoke responses of the five senses. Sound can paint a picture, produce a mood, trigger the senses to remember another time and place. From infancy we hear sound with our entire bodies. When I hear my own name, I have as much a sense of it entering my body through my back or my hand or my chest as through my ears. Sound speaks to the sensorium; the entire system of nerves that stimulates sensual responce. ~ Louis Colaianni

As of this moment, my ill-considered arrangement with Penny needs to be drowned in the Potomac, because I've tasted beautiful and I'm not letting her go. ~ Ainsley Booth

Archer, through all his deeper feelings, tasted the pleasurable excitement of being in a world where action followed on emotion with such Olympian speed. ~ Edith Wharton

And as I was looking at those towers that were destroyed in Lebanon, it occurred to me that we have to punish the transgressor with the same, and that we had to destroy the towers in America, so that they taste what we tasted and they stop killing our women and children. ~ Osama Bin Laden

Beauty is the only human aspect which cannot be captured on any canvas howsoever hard an artist tries. At the most, the undaunted artist can replicate the beauty on paper but what is a replica in comparison to the original! The humbling resemblance can only be respected, not truly adored.
Beauty cannot be imprisoned in the lens of a camera. The images of beauty are a moment of its essence. Beauty cannot be displayed to evoke pleasure for all on a cinema screen. Those are just its imprints, mere illusions of its existence. Beauty cannot be described by words; it cannot be written or read about. There are no suitable words in all the languages of the world, ancient or modern to hold it between a paper and a pen or a script and an eye. Beauty can only be experienced from far, its delightful aroma can only be tasted through one's eyes and its pleasurable sight can only be felt from the soul.
Beauty can only be best described at its origin through a befuddling silence, the kind that leaves one almost on the verge of a pleasurable death, just because one chooses beauty over life. There is nothing in this world to hold something so pure, so divine except a loving heart. And it is the only manner through which love recognises love; the language of love has no alphabet, no words. ~ Faraaz Kazi

When once the woman has tempted us, and we have tasted the forbidden fruit, there is no such thing as checking our appetites, whatever the consequences may be. ~ George Washington

...she had already tasted a delicious spoonful of sleep, and all she wanted was another. ~ Leila Howland

Whatever we focus on is bound to expand. Where we see the negative, we call forth more negative. And where we see the positive, we call forth more positive. Having loved and lost, I now love more passionately. Having won and lost, I now win more soberly. Having tasted the bitter, I now savor the sweet. ~ Marianne Williamson

The critical question for our generation - and for every generation
is this: If you could have heaven, with no sickness, and with all the
friends you ever had on earth, and all the food you ever liked, and
all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, and all the natural beauties
you ever saw, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no
human conflict or any natural disasters, could you be satisfied with
heaven, if Christ were not there? ~ John Piper

One day I saw with the eyes of my eternity in bliss and without effort, a stone. It tasted sweet, like heavenly herbs. ~ Mechthild Of Magdeburg

In the water-thickets, the path wound tortuously between umber iron-bogs, albescent quicksands of aluminum and magnesium oxides, and sumps of cuprous blue or permanganate mauve fed by slow, gelid streams and fringed by silver reeds and tall black grasses. The twisted, smooth-barked boles of the trees were yellow-ochre and burnt orange; through their tightly woven foliage filtered a gloomy, tinted light. At their roots grew great clumps of multifaceted translucent crystal like alien fungi.

Charcoal grey frogs with viridescent eyes croaked as the column floundered between the pools. Beneath the greasy surface of the water unidentifiable reptiles moved slowly and sinuously. Dragonflies whose webby wings spanned a foot or more hummed and hovered between the sedges: their long, wicked bodies glittered bold green and ultramarine; they took their prey on the wing, pouncing with an audible snap of jaws on whining, ephemeral mosquitoes and fluttering moths of april blue and chevrolet cerise.

Over everything hung the heavy, oppressive stench of rotting metal. After an hour, Cromis' mouth was coated with a bitter deposit, and he tasted acids. He found it difficult to speak. While his horse stumbled and slithered beneath him, he gazed about in wonder, and poetry moved in his skull, swift as the jewelled mosquito-hawks over a dark slow current of ancient decay. ~ M. John Harrison

Ricky tasted something he hadn't experienced since childhood: the panic of losing the hand of a guardian. In this case the lost parent was his sanity. Somewhere ~ Clive Barker