Kuichi Coffee Quotes

#1. The Recent Past

Perhaps we ought to feel with more imagination.
As today the sky 70 degrees above zero with lines falling
The way September moves a lace curtain to be near a pear,
The oddest device can't be usual. And that is where
The pejorative sense of fear moves axles. In the stars
There is no longer any peace, emptied like a cup of coffee
Between the blinding rain that interviews.

You were my quintuplets when I decided to leave you
Opening a picture book the pictures were all of grass
Slowly the book was on fire, you the reader
Sitting with specs full of smoke exclaimed
How it was a rhyme for "brick" or "redder."
The next chapter told all about a brook.
You were beginning to see the relation when a tidal wave
Arrived with sinking ships that spelled out "Aladdin."
I thought about the Arab boy in his cave
But the thoughts came faster than advice.
If you knew that snow was a still toboggan in space
The print could rhyme with "fallen star. #Quote by John Ashbery

#2. Breakfast is the only meal of the day that I tend to view with the same kind of traditionalized reverence that most people associate with Lunch and Dinner. I like to eat breakfast alone, and almost never before noon; anybody with a terminally jangled lifestyle needs at least one psychic anchor every twenty-four hours, and mine is breakfast. In Hong Kong, Dallas or at home - and regardless of whether or not I have been to bed - breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess. The food factor should always be massive: four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned beef hash with diced chiles, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of Key lime pie, two margaritas, and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert… Right, and there should also be two or three newspapers, all mail and messages, a telephone, a notebook for planning the next twenty-four hours and at least one source of good music… All of which should be dealt with outside, in the warmth of a hot sun, and preferably stone naked. #Quote by Hunter S. Thompson

#3. Of course," Connor replies. "Your daughter is already more articulate than you are, so really, I like Sulli more than I like you."
Connor sips his coffee again like he just professed the weather: sunny with a side of fuck you. Ryke flips him off. The more direct approach to a fuck you. #Quote by Becca Ritchie

#4. I am still learning how to ask
the important questions, like
"Do you want children?" or
"How do you take your coffee?"
so I'm sorry if I stare at your mouth and ask you if you've ever swallowed a dandelion seed, instead. #Quote by Caitlyn Siehl

#5. On a Wednesday morning in mid-June, Eli Sharpe was sitting at his desk treating jetlag with strong coffee when he heard a knock on his apartment door. After a second, more insistent knock, he added a dash of George Dickel to his Folgers and hid the pint in a desk drawer.
"It's open," he said loudly and stood up to receive his visitor.
In walked a tall blonde, her high heels stabbing the scuffed- up hardwoods, her perfume battling the smell of coffee and dust permeating Eli's six-hundred square foot studio apartment that doubled as a working office. Her perfume won the battle: Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana. Same scent his third fiancée used to wear. #Quote by Max Everhart

#6. I know you enjoy coffee, I´d offer you some. But, the last time I got you coffee, it didn´t work out so well for me."
Tony smirked, "God, Claire you´re something else. I can´t imagine anyone else joking about that."
"Well, see, you misinterpreted. I wasn´t joking. I´m actually still pissed as hell. #Quote by Aleatha Romig

#7. Clark had always been fond of beautiful objects, and in his present state of mind, all objects were beautiful. He stood by the case and found himself moved by every object he saw there, by the human enterprise each object had required. Consider the snow globe. Consider the mind that invented those miniature storms, the factory worker who turned sheets of plastic into white flakes of snow, the hand that drew the plan for the miniature Severn City with its church steeple and city hall, the as**sembly-line worker who watched the globe glide past on a conveyer belt somewhere in China. Consider the white gloves on the hands of the woman who inserted the snow globes into boxes, to be packed into larger boxes, crates, shipping containers. Consider the card games played belowdecks in the evenings on the ship carrying the containers across the ocean, a hand stubbing out a cigarette in an overflowing ashtray, a haze of blue smoke in dim light, the cadences of a half dozen languages united by common profanities, the sailors' dreams of land and women, these men for whom the ocean was a gray-line horizon to be traversed in ships the size of overturned skyscrapers. Consider the signature on the shipping manifest when the ship reached port, a signature unlike any other on earth, the coffee cup in the hand of the driver delivering boxes to the distribution center, the secret hopes of the UPS man carrying boxes of snow globes from there to the Severn City Airport. Clark shook the globe and he #Quote by Emily St. John Mandel

#8. Things can get tough out there. I am in no way saying life is easy and we should breeze through it like a fart through silk filter; we are going to take our lumps and deal with our own unique adversity. What I am saying is that in all the chaos, remember to breathe, remember to smile, and remember that the only time to panic is when there is truly no tomorrow. Fortunately for the majority of us, tomorrow will always meet us in the morning with a cup of coffee and a fresh deck of cigarettes, ready to crack it's cocoon and mature into today. So ease the grip on your moralities and be yourself. Fantastic is really just the flaws. Nobody is perfect - not you, not me, not Jesus, Buddha, Jehovah, not God. But the great thing is that you do not have to be perfect to be alive, and that is what makes life absolutely perfect. #Quote by Corey Taylor

#9. Adam's thumb tapped against his neck. "Your heart is racing."
No kidding.
Nick turned his head away and took the ice bag. He set it on the table and had to look into his coffee mug again.
"Sorry," said Adam. "I know there's no point in pushing your buttons. You're just so adorable when you blush like that." Then he was grinning. "Or like that. #Quote by Brigid Kemmerer

#10. I think one day I can make a book about coffee shops in Hong Kong. I spent almost most of my time in coffee shops, in different coffee shops. #Quote by Wong Kar-Wai

#11. My whole approach to wardrobe is, throw it in a suitcase and make sure they don't press it, for Pete's sake, so I can try to display some rumpled charm. Actually, I'm just a pig. I've got coffee stains on my pants. I think they're coffee stains, anyway. #Quote by Mel Gibson

#12. I gather you weren't keen on going back to Scotland with your brother at this time of year. I don't say I blame you. Terribly bleak and cutoff in the winter."
"Oh no, Mom," I said, as her words sunk in. "My brother is not going back to Scotland. He and my sister-in-law are going to the Riviera."
The Riviera? I had no idea."
"For my sister-in-law's health. She's feeling rather frail at the moment."
"I don't think that frail would ever be a word to describe your sister-in-law," the Queen said, looking up with a half smile on her lips as a tray of coffee was reeled into the room.
"I managed to have six children without making a fuss. One just got on with it. #Quote by Rhys Bowen

#13. The camera does a close-up on the girl who can miraculously see again. It cuts to the mother-in-law, then to the clueless husband. All at once, the credits run.
"Maldito sea!" Lila shoves the coffee table with her foot. "We have to wait to see that hussy get what's coming?"
"Please. You know what's coming." I rub perfume on my wrists and sniff. It's better than sour milk, and it reminds me of fancy department stores where I can only browse. I stuff a few samples in my pocket. "It's going to end the way all the novelas end. Everybody happy."
She shoos away my idea like it's a bad smell. "So what? Nobody gets happy the same way. That's what's interesting. #Quote by Meg Medina

#14. This ... all this, the room, the people here,the odd little pairs and groups they'd formed, the ways each was finding to connect the others ... this was what she fought for. For these people, yes. And for moments like this, punctuated by coffee or tea, with a baby on one man's shoulder and a saint humming over the fireplace ... everyone gathered together to work toward their common goal. She fought for them, and for people she'd never met and never would, people who deserved a chance to make their own moments, built from their own flawed choices, with the people they found. #Quote by Eileen Wilks

#15. Coffee takes on an almost ritualistic meaning. I learned that from being on hurricane patrol for a year in the North Atlantic. #Quote by Nathan Lowell

#16. I grew up with my mom always talking to everyone everywhere, whether it was professionally or in a coffee shop. And my dad was the same way. So I love being able to talk to people, hear their stories and be inspired. #Quote by Katherine Schwarzenegger

#17. When everyone you loved in your life is gone, you have days when the wind comes into your house like a person. You get so alone the wind sits down at your table and tries to have itself a cup of coffee, but it can't, there's no time, it has to move on, it's the wind. I'm not saying the wind is a ghost, only that the feeling is of the wind, the whole notion of the wind, is different when all people you ever loved are gone. It's not fresh air blowing through your hair and airing out your sheets and kitchen. No, sir. It's company. The wind is company that has to go #Quote by Jane McCafferty

#18. poetry readings have to be some of the saddest
damned things ever,
the gathering of the clansmen and clanladies,
week after week, month after month, year
after year,
getting old together,
reading on to tiny gatherings,
still hoping their genius will be
discovered,
making tapes together, discs together,
sweating for applause
they read basically to and for
each other,
they can't find a New York publisher
or one
within miles,
but they read on and on
in the poetry holes of America,
never daunted,
never considering the possibility that
their talent might be
thin, almost invisible,
they read on and on
before their mothers, their sisters, their husbands,
their wives, their friends, the other poets
and the handful of idiots who have wandered
in
from nowhere.
I am ashamed for them,
I am ashamed that they have to bolster each other,
I am ashamed for their lisping egos,
their lack of guts.
if these are our creators,
please, please give me something else:
a drunken plumber at a bowling alley,
a prelim boy in a four rounder,
a jock guiding his horse through along the
rail,
a bartender on last call,
a waitress pouring me a coffee,
a drunk sleeping in a deserted doorway,
a dog munching a dry bone,
an elephant's fart in a circus tent,
a 6 p.m. freeway crush,
the mailman te #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#19. And waking, once again, face smudged into Andrea's couch, the red quilt humped around her shoulders, smelling coffee, while Andrea hummed some Tokyo pop song to herself in the next room, dressing, in a gray morning of Paris rain. #Quote by William Gibson

#20. Oh and P.S.? I am in dire need of more coffee. Industrial strength."
"But we're going to sleep soon," I say.
"I know." Laila shudders. "Addiction is a bitch. #Quote by Susane Colasanti

#21. I've noticed coffee makes you hyper, but coffee shops are designed for people to chill, whereas alcohol is a depressant but bars and clubs are designed for people to be energetic. #Quote by Fuad Alakbarov

#22. Irma, she said. But I had started to walk away. I heard her say some more things but by then I had yanked my skirt up and was running down the road away from her and begging the wind to obliterate her voice. She wanted to live with me. She missed me. She wanted me to come back home. She wanted to run away. She was yelling all this stuff and I wanted so badly for her to shut up. She was quiet for a second and I stopped running and turned around once to look at her. She was a thimble-sized girl on the road, a speck of a living thing. Her white-blond hair flew around her head like a small fire and it was all I could see because everything else about her blended in with the countryside.
He offered you a what? she yelled.
An espresso! I yelled back. It was like yelling at a shorting wire or a burning bush.
What is it? she said.
Coffee! I yelled.
Irma, can I come and live
I turned around again and began to run. #Quote by Miriam Toews

#23. It is recorded that during the long winter after the Battle of Fredericksburg, when the two rival armies were camped on opposite sides of the Rappahannock, with the boys on the opposing picket posts daily swapping coffee for tobacco and comparing notes on their generals, their rations, and other matters, and with each camp in full sight and hearing of the other, one evening massed Union bands came down to the river bank to play all of the old songs, plus the more rousing tunes like "John Brown's Body," "The Battle Cry of Freedom," and "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys Are Marching." Northerners and Southerners, the soldiers sang those songs or sat and listened to them, massed in their thousands on the hillsides, while the darkness came down to fill the river valley and the light of the campfires glinted off the black water. Finally the Southerners called across, "Now play some of ours," so without pause the Yankee bands swung into "Dixie" and "The Bonnie Blue Flag" and "Maryland, My Maryland," and then at last the massed bands played "Home, Sweet Home," and 150,000 fighting men tried to sing it and choked up and just sat there, silent, staring off into the darkness; and at last the music died away and the bandsmen put up their instruments and both armies went to bed. A few weeks later they were tearing each other apart in the lonely thickets around Chancellorsville. #Quote by Bruce Catton

#24. My kingdom for caffeine," she mumbled, making prayer hands up at the ceiling.
When, however, in the next second, Issa entered with tea, Zuzana was not grateful.
"Coffee, I meant coffee," she told the ceiling, as if the universe were a waiter that had gotten her order wrong. #Quote by Laini Taylor

#25. Then she felt shock and shame over the fact that she was thinking about coffee while her planet was being set on fire. #Quote by Neal Stephenson

#26. I love being home, reading the paper in the morning and having a cup of coffee, doing laundry, going grocery shopping and running daily errands. For me, it's important to have that balance in my life. #Quote by Tristan Prettyman

#27. Bones okay?" Kit slouched, feet propped on the coffee table. "That's fine." We watched in silence, side by side, occasionally chuckling at some of the jokes. I #Quote by Kathy Reichs

#28. My mother, who would always buy her books new, hated it the vintage hardcovers with their cracked spines and threadbare cloth covers. True you couldn't go in there and buy the latest best seller, but when you held one of those volumes in your hands, you were leafing through another person'a life. Someone else had once loved that story, too. Someone else had carried that book in a backpack, devoured it over breakfast, mopped up that coffee stain at a Paris café, cried herself to sleep after that last chapter. The scent was distinctive: a slight damp mildew, a punch of dust. To me, it was the smell of history. #Quote by Jodi Picoult

#29. When I returned as CEO in 2008, Starbucks had forgotten that meaningful innovations balance an organization's heritage with modern-day relevance and market differentiation, so we had to reorient. In one brainstorming session, we visited and observed great retailers, then asked ourselves, 'If Starbucks did not exist, what type of coffee experience would we create? #Quote by Howard Schultz

#30. She lifted the cup to her lips. "You make good coffee."
"You haven't tasted it yet."
"I can smell it. And I love the way it smells."
It's not the coffee, he thought. Not all of it, at any rate.
"Well, I love your perfume," he said, because he was a dolt.
She frowned. "I'm not wearing any. I mean, other than the soap and shampoo I use."
"Well, I like them, then. And I'm glad you stayed."
"Is this what you planned?"
Their eyes met. Shit, she was perfect. Radiant as the candles had been.
"You making it all the way to the coffee? Yeah, I guess a date was what I was after."
"I thought you agreed with me."
Man, that breathless quality in her voice made him want to have her up against his naked chest.
"Agreed with you?" he said. "Hell, if it would make you happy, I'd say yes to anything. But what are you specifically referring to?"
"You said…I shouldn't date anyone."
Ah, right. "You shouldn't."
"I don't understand."
Fuck him, but he went for it. Rehv put his numb elbow on the table and leaned into her. As he closed the distance, her eyes got wider, but she didn't pull back.
He paused, to give her a chance to tell him to cut the shit. Why? He had no clue. His symphath side was into pauses only for analysis or to better capitalize on a weakness. But she made him want to be decent.
Ehlena didn't tell him to step off, however.
"I don't…understand," she whispered.
"It's #Quote by J.R. Ward

#31. QUESTIONS FOR YOU What business are you in? Are you selling coffee or lifestyle? Renting rooms online or giving people the opportunity to connect and experience a city in new ways? Or ... ? What do your customers want from you? Would they like a product or support? Gym membership or improved health and wellness? How do your customers want to feel? Connected, informed, reassured, special, excited, happy, fulfilled, and on and on. Have you asked #Quote by Bernadette Jiwa

#32. For example, when the two of you are in the coffee room, she might say to you, "Hey, we should just take all these white people's shit and burn it." But then she laughs, and you laugh, and another coworker enters the room, asking, "What's so funny?" and without missing a beat you both say, "Tina Fey! #Quote by Baratunde R. Thurston

#33. ceased drinking coffee, stopped eating sugar, and started sleeping regularly. #Quote by Reid Cahill

#34. I wear the universe backwards.
I imagine putting stars in my
coffee, and sugar in the sky.
I imagine going fishing in clouds,
and watching the sun hide
behind lakes. I'm too busy dancing
with my imagination to even tip toe
with reality for a second.

They say I'm going mad.
They're right. #Quote by D. Antoinette Foy

#35. I need fiction, I am an addict. This is not a figure of speech. I don't quite read a novel a day, but I certainly read some of a novel every day, and usually some of several. There is always a heap of opened paperbacks face down near the bed, always something current on the kitchen table to reach for over coffee when I wake up. Colonies of prose have formed in the bathroom and in the dimness of the upstairs landing, so that I don't go without text even in the leftover spaces of the house where I spend least time….I can be happy with an essay or a history if it interlaces like a narrative, if its author uses fact or impression to make a story-like sense, but fiction is kind, fiction is the true stuff….I don't give it up. It is entwined too deeply within my history, it has been forming the way I see for too long. #Quote by Francis Spufford