Taste Quotes

#1. I believe that bad taste is vulgar. It's like cursing. I think the world can be saved through design, because what is the most distasteful thing someone can do? Kill someone. So, good taste is the opposite of that. #Quote by Kanye West

#2. (Watching her) was a little like watching water lilies; rather more like smelling a dinner he was not allowed to eat. Was it possible to be starved for so long as to forget the taste of food, for the pangs of hunger to burn out like ash? It seemed so. But both the pleasure and the pain were his heart's secret, here. He was put in mind, suddenly, of the soil at the edge of a recovering blight; the weedy bedraggled look of it, unlovely yet hopeful. Blight was a numb gray thing, without sensation. Did the return of green life hurt? Odd thought. #Quote by Lois McMaster Bujold

#3. Our private taste in books showed a hint of our secret selves, and sometimes I was the only one who got to see those secrets #Quote by Nova Ren Suma

#4. It's like the artwork of Andy Goldsworthy, or anyone who delights in anything ephemeral. The charm in a bottle of wine, the craft, all the work that goes into it . . . actually delighting in the fact that it's perishable and goes away I find really helpful. I've gotten a lot of miles out of a beautiful bottle of wine, not just for the taste and the buzz, but the symbolism of delighting in something that goes away. #Quote by Timothy Ferriss

#5. ...it was not simply a matter of musical taste; whether you preferred the Beatles or [the Rolling] Stones said much about your personality and character. People who were happy, intelligent, well-adjusted, popular, clean, decent and punctual tended to be Beatles fans. Those who were evil, cretinous, scabby, drug-ridden, filthy, criminal perverts liked the Stones.
As for your author, I personally take no side in the controversy, remaining strictly neutral. #Quote by Lewis Grossberger

#6. If bad taste were a felony, every writer I know would've done prison time. #Quote by Steven Bochco

#7. In my mind, this is what I look like: A giant St. Bernard, huffing and panting with sloppy drool falling out of my mouth, whimpering, like I need to lick and taste a giant bone inches from my face. He can be my giant bone. Oh. My. God. Bone. #Quote by Jay McLean

#8. There is nothing mysterious or natural about authority. It is formed, irradiated, disseminated; it is instrumental, it is persuasive; it has status, it establishes canons of taste and value; it is virtually indistinguishable from certain ideas it dignifies as true, and from traditions, perceptions, and judgments it forms, transmits, reproduces. #Quote by Edward W. Said

#9. The idea of devoting two years of my life to making a corporate product that looks and smells and tastes like a lot of other things out there with just a different trademark character is a bore. #Quote by James Mangold

#10. You have horrible taste in sensible footwear. Prefer high-pressure sexual advances to gentlemanly overtures. Can order a poor man into bankruptcy. Have questionable judgment when it comes to choosing travel companions." I #Quote by Alessandra Torre

#11. I have no sympathy whatever with those who would grudge our workmen and our common people the very highest acquisitions which their taste or their time or their inclination would lead them to realize. #Quote by Thomas Chalmers

#12. Let's get one thing straight. I kiss you because I want to fucking kiss you, because I like it and because you taste good. So don't think for one second that I have an ulterior motive. #Quote by K.M. Golland

#13. As for the garden of mint, the very smell of it alone recovers and refreshes our spirits, as the taste stirs up our appetite for meat. #Quote by Pliny The Elder

#14. Peeta opens his mouth for the first bite without hesitation. He swallows, then frowns slightly. "They're very sweet."
"Yes they're sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you've ever had them before?" I say, poking the next spoonful in his mouth.
"No," he says, almost puzzled. "But they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"
"Well, you can't get them in the market much, they only grow wild," I say. Another mouthful goes down. Just one more to go.
"They're sweet as syrup," he says, taking the last spoonful. "Syrup." His eyes widen as he realizes the truth. I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it's too late, he's already losing consciousness. Even as he fades away, I can see in his eyes what I've done is unforgiveable.
I sit back on my heels and look at him with a mixture of sadness and satisfaction. A stray berry stains his chin and I wipe it away. "Who can't lie, Peeta?" I say, even though he can't hear me. #Quote by Suzanne Collins

#15. She sounds the way bananas taste. #Quote by Truman Capote

#16. Like Daniel she enteres the lions' den, but lacking Daniel's pure and unblemished soul, Ada is spiced with the flavors of vice that make for a tasty meal. Pure and unblemished souls must taste very bland, with an aftertaste of bitterness. #Quote by Barbara Kingsolver

#17. You can purchase the mind of Pascal for a crown. Pleasures even cheaper are sold to those who give themselves up to them. It is only luxuries and objects of caprice that are rare and difficult to obtain; unfortunately they are the only things that touch the curiosity and taste of ordinary men. #Quote by Luc De Clapiers

#18. And it isn't a mistake in taste, like believing that the Matrix sequels were as good as the original. #Quote by Paul Bloom

#19. There weren't enough espresso in the world to wash the sour taste of betrayal out of my mouth. #Quote by Aldous Mercer

#20. Fashion designers are dictators of taste. #Quote by Karl Lagerfeld

#21. If someone were to ask about your taste in fine dining and you were to say, "I lean toward food served with vivid adjectives," you'd probably get a pretty strange look; #Quote by Leonard Mlodinow

#22. Searching nature I taste self but at one tankard, that of my own being. #Quote by Gerard Manley Hopkins

#23. I do not know how old I was when I learned to play chess. I could not have been older than eight, because I still have a chessboard on whose side my father inscribed, with a soldering iron, "Saša Hemon 1972." I loved the board more than chess - it was one of the first things I owned. Its materiality was enchanting to me: the smell of burnt wood that lingered long after my father had branded it; the rattle of the thickly varnished pieces inside, the smacking sound they made when I put them down, the board's hollow wooden echo. I can even recall the taste - the queen's tip was pleasantly suckable; the pawns' round heads, not unlike nipples, were sweet. The board is still at our place in Sarajevo, and, even if I haven't played a game on it in decades, it is still my most cherished possession, providing incontrovertible evidence that there once lived a boy who used to be me. #Quote by Aleksandar Hemon

#24. He spins around. Before I can say anything else, he steps forward and takes my face in his hands. Then he's kissing me one last time, overwhelming me with his warmth, breathing life and love and aching sorrow into me. I throw my arms around his neck as he wraps his around my waist. My lips part for him and his mouth moves desperately against mine, devouring me, taking every breath that I have. Don't go, I plead wordlessly. But I can taste the good-bye on his lips, and now I can no longer hold back my tears. He's trembling. His face is wet. I hang on to him like he'll disappear if I let go, like I'll be left alone in this dark room, standing in the empty air. Day, the boy from the streets with nothing except the clothes on his back and the earnestness in his eyes, owns my heart. #Quote by Marie Lu

#25. Every time I kiss you, I taste the rest of my life. I wont stop fighting for you until you taste yours, too."
Aaron Stone #Quote by Emma Hart

#26. The feeling of loving her and being loved by her welled up in him, and he could taste the adrenaline in the back of his throat, and maybe it wasn't over, and maybe he could feel her hand in his again and hear her loud, brash voice contort itself into a whisper to say I-love-you as if it were a secret, and an immense one. #Quote by John Green

#27. Founder Rouse wanted to challenge a lot of ingrained biases in our culture; taste was not among them. He gave people the ticky-tacky houses they wanted. The only real choices were brick or wood siding, a Baltimore or a D.C. prefix for your phone. #Quote by Laura Lippman

#28. I have to know"
"What? What do you have to know?"
"What you taste like." Another step.
What happens when you know?" she rasped.
"I stop wondering. Stop dreaming of you every night, thinking of you every minute of every day." Another step closer. "I think you wonder, too. I think you dream of me and wonder. You hate yourself for it. You hate me for it, but you cannot stop. #Quote by Gena Showalter

#29. I continued toward Atlanta with a Merle Haggard C.D. playing on the stereo. They weren't great hosts, but those guys in The Ted Kaczynski Fan Club had great taste in music. It was all classic country music- none of that sissy, boy-band country that they played on the radio all the time. I drove down the road while Merle preferred to just stay where he was and drink. #Quote by Ian McClellan

#30. A critic is a bundle of biases held loosely together by a sense of taste. #Quote by Whitney Balliett

#31. In the United States, where it has become almost impossible to use "liberal" in the sense in which I have used it, the term "libertarian" has been used instead. It may be the answer; but for my part I find it singularly unattractive. For my taste it carries too much the flavor of a manufactured term and of a substitute. What I should want is a word which describes the party of life, the party that favors free growth and spontaneous evolution. But I have racked my brain unsuccessfully to find a descriptive term which commends itself. #Quote by Friedrich August Von Hayek

#32. December is a bewitching month.
The grey of cold teases
to explode into something worthwhile,
into a dream of cold,
a starlight shower you can taste,
a cold that does not chill.

I've lost my memory
of my first snow--
did I gasp at a field of white?
Or scream at the freeze
untill my cheeks reddened?

The crunch underfoot is satisfying
and the thrill of virgin snow
near leaves. #Quote by Joseph Coelho

#33. I always feel lifted the minute I taste real air. The minute I see the sun-scorched signs, the swaying traffic-lights. The lab is gone. But not tonight, it seems. Tonight all I can think of is Diane Fleming rolling into town, starting fires. #Quote by Megan Abbott

#34. No appetite. No sensation in a dry stomach. No desire. No orchids sweet enough to taste. Not the sort of woman to eat sandwiches on a bus. At least not the sort of woman who would eat in the dark. Not anymore. #Quote by John Hawkes

#35. All I know is that when I need to eat my feelings, my feelings taste like Wawa milkshakes with extra M&Ms. #Quote by Katharine McGee

#36. I won't stop until my mouth is imprinted on your mind and your taste is my fucking middle name. #Quote by Alessandra Torre

#37. But leaving is just something that happens in life. We all do it someday, one way or another. There's worse things than going away with the taste of love still fresh in our mouths. #Quote by Jenny Wingfield

#38. Why be seduced by something as small as a front door in another country? Why fall in love with a place because it has trams and its people seldom have curtains in their homes? However absurd the intense reactions provoked by such small (and mute) foreign elements may seem, the pattern is at least familiar from our personal lives. There, too, we may find ourselves anchoring emotions of love on the way a person butters his or her bread, or recoiling at his or her taste in shoes. To condemn ourselves for these minute concerns is to ignore how rich in meaning details may be. #Quote by Alain De Botton

#39. Taste it and you will get a desire for it.
Irish Proverb #Quote by Dorien Kelly

#40. We live among ruins in a World in which 'god is dead' as Nietzsche stated. The ideals of today are comfort, expediency, surface knowledge, disregard for one's ancestral heritage and traditions, catering to the lowest standards of taste and intelligence, apotheosis of the pathetic, hoarding of material objects and possessions, disrespect for all that is inherently higher and better - in other words
a complete inversion of true values and ideals, the raising of the victory flag of ignorance and the banner of degeneracy. In such a time, social decadence is so widespread that it appears as a natural component of all political institutions. The crises that dominate the daily lives of our societies are part of a secret occult war to remove the support of spiritual and traditional values in order to turn man into a passive instrument of dark powers.

The common ground of both Capitalism and Socialism is a materialistic view of life and being. Materialism in its war with the Spirit has taken on many forms; some have promoted its goals with great subtlety, whilst others have done so with an alarming lack of subtlety, but all have added, in greater or lesser measure, to the growing misery of Mankind. The forms which have done the most damage in our time may be enumerated as: Freemasonry, Liberalism, Nihilism, Capitalism, Socialism, Marxism, Imperialism, Anarchism, Modernism and the New Age. #Quote by Seyyed Hossein Nasr

#41. Taste is the fundamental quality which sums up all the other qualities. It is the nec plus ultra of the intelligence. Through this alone is genius the supreme health and balance of all the faculties. #Quote by Comte De Lautreamont

#42. The man obviously had a taste for high-class trash. #Quote by Marie Hall

#43. Oatmeal tastes so good on its own, you don't even need to add sugar. #Quote by Kristin Chenoweth

#44. Now tequila may be the favored beverage of outlaws but that doesn't mean it gives them preferential treatment. In fact, tequila probably has betrayed as many outlaws as has the central nervous system and dissatisfied wives. Tequila, scorpion honey, harsh dew of the doglands, essence of Aztec, crema de cacti; tequila, oily and thermal like the sun in solution; tequila, liquid geometry of passion; Tequila, the buzzard god who copulates in midair with the ascending souls of dying virgins; tequila, firebug in the house of good taste; O tequila, savage water of sorcery, what confusion and mischief your sly, rebellious drops do generate! #Quote by Tom Robbins

#45. Stevia does something funny to the chemistry of my mouth. There's no fooling a taste bud, in my experience. #Quote by Jonathan Franzen

#46. When we grow careless of keeping our souls, then God recovers our taste of good things again by sharp crosses. #Quote by Richard Sibbes

#47. It's bad taste to be wise all the time, like being at a perpetual funeral. #Quote by D.H. Lawrence

#48. Gardening is a long road, with many detours and way stations, and here we all are at one point or another. It's not a question of superior or inferior taste, merely a question of which detour we are on at the moment. Getting there (as they say) is not important; the wandering about in the wilderness or in the olive groves or in the bayous is the whole point. #Quote by Henry Mitchell

#49. What I call middle-class society is any society that becomes rigidified in predetermined forms, forbidding all evolution, all gains, all progress, all discovery. I call middle-class a closed society in which life has no taste, in which the air is tainted, in which ideas and men are corrupt. And I think that a man who takes a stand against this death is in a sense a revolutionary. #Quote by Frantz Fanon

#50. Anyway,
if my lips were rose petals they'd taste too bitter.
If my cheeks were apples they'd crawl with apple worms.
If my eyes were stars they'd be dead by the time you saw them.
If I moved you like the moon I'd disappear once a month.
If my teeth were Chiclets you'd want to chew on them and spit them out.
If my hands were birds you couldn't hold them; they'd peck you bloody.
Is my skin alabaster? Then it's cold and hard and one day someone will skin me,
make me into a cold hard box tinged with pink or yellow, to hold unguents, then
how will you love me?
If my vagina is a cool, dark forest you'll certainly be lost, you have no sense of direction.
If my vagina is a cave-watch out! It's prone to seismic shifts and avalanche.
If my vagina is a river of honey: orange, lavender, fine herbs, hazelnut, all too sweet.
If my ears are shells I can't hear you, only the ocean anyway.
And if my voice is music, it is unintelligible.
Don't say anything.
I am not a flower, but a body with rules and predictable, cellular qualities.
My eyelashes and fingernails and skin and spit are organized by proteins
designed to erode at a pre-encoded date and time, no matter what you do or do
not do to me-
I am remarkably like an animal.
More like a heifer than a sunrise, I want to bite, stroke, swallow you so stop lying
there trying to think of something to say and trying to understand me.
#Quote by Rachel Zucker

#51. Didn't need to see your aura." He tapped my forehead. "You get a cute little frown there when
you've got something bothering you."
"Not everything about me is cute."
"That's true. Some things are cute. The rest are sexy." His voice was low as he leaned toward
me. "So amazingly, agonizingly sexy that it's a wonder I can get anything done when all I ever think
about is the taste of your lips and the touch of your fingertips on my skin and the way your legs feel
when I - "
"Adrian," I interrupted.
His eyes smoldered. "Yes?"
"Shut up. #Quote by Richelle Mead

#52. ...while epic fantasy is based on the fairy tale of the just war, that's not one you'll find in Grimm or Disney, and most will never recognize the shape of it. I think the fantasy genre pitches its tent in the medieval campground for the very reason that we even bother to write stories about things that never happened in the first place: because it says something subtle and true about our own world, something it is difficult to say straight out, with a straight face. Something you need tools to say, you need cheat codes for the human brain--a candy princess or a sugar-coated unicorn to wash down the sour taste of how bad things can really get.

See, I think our culture has a slash running through the middle of it, too. Past/Future, Conservative/Liberal, Online/Offline. Virgin/Whore. And yes: Classical/Medieval. I think we're torn between the Classical Narrative of Self and the Medieval Narrative of Self, between the choice of Achilles and Keep Calm and Carry On.

The Classical internal monologue goes like this: do anything, anything, only don't be forgotten. Yes, this one sacrificed his daughter on a slab at Aulis, that one married his mother and tore out his eyes, and oh that guy ate his kids in a pie. But you remember their names, don't you? So it's all good in the end. Give a Greek soul a choice between a short life full of glory and a name echoing down the halls of time and a long, gentle life full of children and a quiet sort of virtue, and he'll alwa #Quote by Catherynne M. Valente

#53. Love is the colour of spring sunshine muted through old windows. Love has a taste, a texture - dark chocolate with pistachios; a sound - wind chimes echoing from a distant hill; a rhythm - the tango, obviously. #Quote by Chloe Thurlow

#54. I love to taste you, do you notice?"
I curl my hands into fists around the pillowcase.
"I think this sweetness is just for me. I pretend your desire has never been like this." He dips a finger inside and brings it up to my lips. "For everyone else it was never so silky and sweet. Tell me it's true. #Quote by Christina Lauren

#55. In the kitchen, Chris pours her a glass of sun tea. Bitter. She hates the way they make tea up here. Tea should be sweet, gritty with sugar. Up here it's like the Yankees want their tea to taste like wash water. #Quote by Chuck Wendig

#56. Excluded by my birth and tastes from the social order, I was not aware of its diversity. Nothing in the world was irrelevant: the stars on a general's sleeve, the stock-market quotations, the olive harvest, the style of the judiciary, the wheat exchange, flower-beds. Nothing. This order, fearful and feared, whose details were all inter-related, had a meaning: my exile. #Quote by Jean Genet

#57. Here is the challenge, I believe, for the Christian artist, in whatever sphere: to tell the story of the new world so that people can taste it and want it, even while acknowledging the reality of the desert in which we presently live. #Quote by N. T. Wright

#58. The neural basis for the self, as I see it, resides with the continuous reactivation of at least two sets of representations. One set concerns representations of key events in an individual's autobiography, on the basis of which a notion of identity can be reconstructed repeatedly, by partial activation in topologically organized sensory maps ...
In brief, the endless reactivation of updated images about our identity (a combination of memories of the past and of the planned future) constitutes a sizable part of the state of self as I understand it.
The second set of representations underlying the neural self consists of the primordial representations of an individual's body ... Of necessity, this encompasses background body states and emotional states. The collective representation of the body constitute the basis for a "concept" of self, much as a collection of representations of shape, size, color, texture, and taste can constitute the basis for the concept of orange. #Quote by Antonio R Damasio

#59. I promise a banquet for our ending.
I promise a parade of drums for the day you
close the door behind you for the last time.
I promise not to carry you around with me like a mistake
or a pack of gum, even when I forget what you taste like.
When they ask me about you,
I will always smile.
I will say your name and it will sound
like thank you. #Quote by Caitlyn Siehl

#60. My dear man!" Breeze said, leaning down. "Have I taught you nothing? Being in charge isn't about doing anything - it's about making certain that other people do what they're supposed to! Delegation, my friend. Without it, we would have to bake our own bread and dig our own latrines!" Then, Breeze leaned in. "And, trust me. You don't want to taste anything I've had a hand in baking. Ever. Particularly after I've cleaned a latrine. #Quote by Brandon Sanderson

#61. We are the centuries... We have your eoliths and your mesoliths and your neoliths. We have your Babylons and your Pompeiis, your Caesars and your chromium-plated (vital-ingredient impregnated) artifacts. We have your bloody hatchets and your Hiroshimas. We march in spite of Hell, we do – Atrophy, Entropy, and Proteus vulgaris, telling bawdy jokes about a farm girl name of Eve and a traveling salesman called Lucifer. We bury your dead and their reputations. We bury you. We are the centuries. Be born then, gasp wind, screech at the surgeon's slap, seek manhood, taste a little godhood, feel pain, give birth, struggle a little while, succumb: (Dying, leave quietly by the rear exit, please.) Generation, regeneration, again, again, as in a ritual, with blood-stained vestments and nail-torn hands, children of Merlin, chasing a gleam. Children, too, of Eve, forever building Edens – and kicking them apart in berserk fury because somehow it isn't the same. (AGH! AGH! AGH! – an idiot screams his mindless anguish amid the rubble. But quickly! let it be inundated by the choir, chanting Alleluias at ninety decibels.) #Quote by Walter M. Miller Jr.

#62. I don't know why I lived and she not. She was better than I, sweeter and kinder. It should have been me."
"No!" He held her fiercely, stroking away the tears that trickled down her ashen cheeks. "Do not say that! Does not your own faith teach that we are always in the hands of god?"
"A careless god or an unfathomable one. Why create a world of pain?"
"It is not. You know yourself, there is great beauty here and joy."
She knew, at least now she did, since she had known him.
"I am a Viking." He said it sorrowfully, as though he would change it if he could.
"I do not think you are like the others." Truth. She did not, had never, not since the knowing of him.
"You do not touch me." The words were out before she could reclaim them. She bit her lip hard, drawing blood.
"Don't," he said, nearly pleading as he caught the tiny crimson drop. His lips touched hers, brushing lightly, giving her the taste of him. "I will," he said, and she was gone, lost in the glow of yearning. #Quote by Josie Litton

#63. There is strange, and yet not strange, is the kiss. It is strange because it mixes silliness with tragedy, and yet not strange because there is good reason for it. There is shaking by the hand. That should be enough. Yet a shaking of hands is not enough to give a vent to all kinds of feeling. The hand is too hard and too used to doing all things, with too little feeling and too far from the organs of taste and smell, and far from the brain, and the length of an arm from the heart. To rub a nose like the blacks, that we think is so silly, is better, but there is nothing good to the taste about the nose, only a piece of old bone pushing out of the face, and a nuisance in winter, but a friend before meals and in a garden, indeed. With the eyes we can do nothing, for if we come too near, they go crossed and everything comes twice to the sight without good from one or other.

There is nothing to be done with the ear, so back we come to the mouth, and we kiss with the mouth because it is part of the head and of the organs of taste and smell. It is temple of the voice, keeper of breath and its giving out, treasurer of tastes and succulences, and home of the noble tongue. And its portals are firm, yet soft, with a warmth, of a ripeness, unlike the rest of the face, rosy, and in women with a crinkling of red tenderness, to the taste not in compare with the wild strawberry, yet if the taste of kisses went , and strawberries came the year round, half of joy would be gone from #Quote by Richard Llewellyn

#64. Maybe I've just read too many novels. In novels, alcoholics are always attractive and fuuny and charming and complex, like Sebastian Flyte or ABe North in Tender in the Night, and they're drinking because of a deep, unquenchable sadness of the soul, or the terrible legacy of the First World War, whereas I just get drunk because I'm thirsty, and I like the taste of lager ... #Quote by David Nicholls

#65. She's just nervous, Paddy. Don't worry, hon," saidSharon , her lips pulled into a generous smile. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and sincerity. "I'm used to these neck nibblers."
"No offense,Sharon . But I'd rather have the chocolate," I said.
She laughed and slapped her thigh. "Hell's bells, Patrick! She's the reason you've had me eating these Godiva truffles all day?"
I looked at Patrick. "You're mean." His black brows formed question marks. Then his lips curled into a smile. "No, not just mean. Cruel."
"I had her eat truffles for you," he said.
"Are you insane? How is her eating my chocolate in any way helpful?"
Sharon chortled. "You might not be able to eat the truffle, sweetie, but you'll taste it. Prob'ly be the best chocolate you ever eat, too."
I looked at Sharon , then at Patrick. "Are you telling me that she's gonna taste like chocolate?"
"Yes. #Quote by Michele Bardsley

#66. She could taste a nuanced ethical understanding of the patent system all over his body. #Quote by Annalee Newitz

#67. Never ask, never get," the dog replied. "Never try, never taste. Never taste, never enjoy. #Quote by Susan Wittig Albert

#68. I'd wondered about it before, even felt a few pretty strong impulses, but this was the first time I really thought about kissing her, right this instant, like I could already taste her lips, breathe in her skin at the side of her neck, feel the curves of her body against mine as I eased her back onto the sand, my fingers tangling in her soft blond hair, sliding under her clothes ... #Quote by Ophelia London

#69. You're not answering my question. It's getting irritating."
"Okay, serious answer. Ready? Here we go." Nora took a deep breath. She didn't want to talk about this stuff with Marie-Laure, but as long as she stayed interesting, as long as she stayed entertaining, she stayed alive. "I get off on submitting to Søren. I don't know how or why. I can't explain any more than you can explain why you like Irish breakfast tea instead of English breakfast or whatever you're drinking. It's a personal taste. I liked it. He's the most beautiful man on earth, he's got an inner drive and power that I'm drawn to, he can scare the shit out of someone with a glance, he can put someone on their knees with a word, he can see into your soul if you make the mistake of looking into his eyes. And it is a mistake because you will never want to look away again no matter how bare and naked he lays your most private self. I knelt at his feet because I felt like that's where I belonged. And no, not because I was so unworthy of him, but because he was so utterly worthy of my devotion."
A noble speech and a true one, Nora decided as her words settled into the room. True, yes, but not the whole truth. Might as well spill it all.
"Oh," she added a moment later. "And me submitting to pain gets him rock hard and the man fucks like a freight train when in the right mood. Not that you would know anything about that. #Quote by Tiffany Reisz

#70. I have a very eclectic taste when it comes to music. #Quote by Priyanka Chopra

#71. I jumped up, my hands in the air. "Yes!"
Lend laughed. "Okay, looks like I need to make a run to the grocery store. Do faeries hate wheat or white bread more, you think?"
"Get bread with raisins," I said. "Everyone hates raisins."
Jack was bouncing, obviously excited. "That's all we need, right?"
"We need Reth."
"No," Lend and Jack whined in unison.
"Come on, you two. Reth knows the Faerie Realms better than you do. Jack, you didn't see where the people were; it might take you a while to find them, and that's time we can't afford to lose. And Reth's getting worse; being there might give him more time."
Lend scowled, grabbing the car keys off the counter. "Fine. But I'm really getting tired of his stupid smirk and prissy clothes."
Jack nodded. "And his voice that sounds like it'd even taste good. Really, it's overkill. Best to have only a few absolutely perfect traits - for example, my hair and eyes and sparkling personality - so you don't overwhelm them."
"Aww, are you guys jealous of how pretty Reth is? That's kind of adorable."
"You know I could look exactly like him," Lend said, frowning darkly.
"Please for the love of all that is good and holy, never, ever wear Reth. That's the stuff of nightmares."
That brightened his face a bit and he left me with a lingering kiss and a promise to be back with every loaf of bread we could carry.
"Well, go find your stupid faerie boyfriend," Jack said, lying down on top of #Quote by Kiersten White

#72. It's like getting an extraordinary meal after you've been eating junk food for a long time. The taste just sweeps through your sensibilities, bringing all-out contentment, and the sheer goodness of it makes up for every bad meal you ever had. #Quote by Joan Bauer

#73. I have such an eclectic taste in music. Come to a backyard BBQ at my house, and I will run the gamut from Skynyrd to Sinatra to '90s grunge, rap, R&B, and classic rock. I have issues. If I had to pick one, I love this country artist named Craig Morgan. His music and his songs are so relatable and tell such vivid stories. #Quote by Mike Vogel

#74. In all marriages there is the imbalance: one who loves more than the other. One who licks wounds in secret, the rust-taste of blood. #Quote by Joyce Carol Oates

#75. Wyman's overpopulated universe is in many ways unlovely. It offends the aesthetic sense of us who have a taste for desert landscapes, but this is not the worst of it. Wyman's slum of possibles is a breeding ground for disorderly elements. #Quote by Willard Van Orman Quine

#76. A glass of wine will taste better after reading a positive review of it, #Quote by Dan Ariely

#77. Rapacity plus taste is a formidable combination, since it so often passes for intelligence. One pities the artist in a world of such predators, all of whom are deeply engaged in the arts too. #Quote by Gilbert Sorrentino

#78. You can tell a man's taste in literature by his judgment in knowing what not to read. #Quote by Evan Esar

#79. Most plagiarists, like the drone, have neither taste to select, industry to acquire, nor skill to improve, but impudently pilfer the honey ready prepared, from the hive. #Quote by Charles Caleb Colton

#80. A taste for the beautiful is most cultivated out of doors #Quote by Henry David Thoreau

#81. All other nations are drinking Ray Charles beer and we are drinking Barry Manilow. #Quote by Dave Barry

#82. In America we eat, collectively, with a glum urge for food to fill us. We are ignorant of flavour. We are as a nation taste-blind. #Quote by M.F.K. Fisher

#83. By degrees, however, he fashioned for himself out of this tendency a philosophy that was actually serviceable to life. He gained strength through familiarity with the thought that the emergency exit stood always open, and became curious, too, to taste his suffering to the dregs. If it went too badly with him he could feel sometimes with a grim malicious pleasure: I am curious to see all the same just how much a man can endure. If the limit of what is bearable is reached, I have only to open the door to escape. #Quote by Hermann Hesse

#84. It was as if I were powerless to resist the temptation; my senses were overcome. I could hear the emptiness, and taste the silence, and smell the solitude, and I wanted it more than I have ever wanted anything before. #Quote by Nick Hornby

#85. But he's grinning at her. She grins back. "You've made quite the new best friend," I say. His expression turns to regret. "Children do have questionable taste." I laugh. It's the first time I can remember laughing this week. #Quote by Stephanie Perkins

#86. Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long.
Your commands make me wiser than my enemies, for they are ever with me.
I have more insight than all my teachers, for I meditate on your statutes.
I have more understanding than the elders, for I obey your precepts.
How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!
Psalms 119:97-100, 103 #Quote by Anonymous

#87. If in my lifetime the problem of non-free software is solved, I could perhaps relax and write software again. But I might instead try to help deal with the world's larger problems. Standing up to an evil system is exhilarating, and now I have a taste for it. #Quote by Richard Stallman

#88. I am only sipping the second glass of that "fascinating, but subtle poison, whose ravages eat men's heart and brain" that I have ever tasted in my life; and as I am not an American anxious for quick action, I am not surprised and disappointed that I do not drop dead upon the spot. But I can taste souls without the aid of absinthe; and besides, this is magic of absinthe! The spirit of the house has entered into it; it is an elixir, the masterpiece of an old alchemist, no common wine. And so, as I talk with the patron concerning the vanity of things, I perceive the secret of the heart of God himself; this, that everything, even the vilest thing, is so unutterably lovely that it is worthy of the devotion of a God for all eternity. What other excuse could He give man for making him? In substance, that is my answer to King Solomon. #Quote by Aleister Crowley

#89. One wants to move through life with elegance and grace, blossoming infrequently but with exquisite taste, and perfect timing, like a rare bloom, a zebra orchid ... One wants ... But one so seldom gets what one wants, does one? #Quote by Tony Kushner

#90. For some reason Canon Fenneau made me feel a little uneasy. His voice might be soft, it was also coercive. He had small eyes, a large loose mouth, the lips thick, a somewhat receding chin. The eyes were the main feature. They were unusual eyes, not only almost unnaturally small, but vague, moist, dreamy, the eyes of a medium. His cherubic side, increased by a long slightly uptilted nose, was a little too good to be true, with eyes like that. In the manner in which he gave you all his attention there was a taste for mastery. #Quote by Anthony Powell

#91. Money doesn't buy taste, personality, or common decency. #Quote by Jennifer L. Armentrout

#92. And here are trees and I know their gnarled surface, water and I feel its taste. These scents of grass and stars at night, certain evenings when the heart relaxes-how shall I negate this world whose power and strength I feel? Yet all the knowledge on earth will give me nothing to assure me that this world is mine. You describe it to me and you teach me to classify it. You enumerate its laws and in my thirst for knowledge I admit that they are true. You take apart its mechanism and my hope increases. At the final stage you teach me that this wondrous and multicolored universe can be reduced to the atom and that the atom itself can be reduced to the electron. All this is good and I wait for you to continue. But you tell me of an invisible planetary system in which electrons gravitate around a nucleus. You explain this world to me with an image. I realize then that you have been reduced to poetry: I shall never know. #Quote by Albert Camus

#93. Little bucktoothed alligator
ready to taste my bills.
Make something suffer.
Make something stick. #Quote by B.J. Ward

#94. Paradise,' he began, and the p meant a spray. 'The old legend about Paradise - that was about us, about right now. Yes! Just think about it. Those two in Paradise, they were offered a choice: happiness without freedom, or freedom without happiness, nothing else. Those idiots chose freedom. And then what? Then for centuries they were homesick for the chains. That's why the world was so miserable, see? They missed the chains. For ages! And we were the first to hit on the way to get back to happiness. No, wait ... listen to me. The ancient God and us, side by side, at the same table. Yes! We helped God finally overcome the Devil - because that's who it was that pushed people to break the commandment and taste freedom and be ruined. It was him, the wily serpent. But we gave him a boot to the head! Crack! And it was all over: Paradise was back. And we're simple and innocent again, like Adam and Eve. None of those complications about good and evil: Everything is very simple, childishly simple - Paradise! The Benefactor, the Machine, the Cube, the Gas Bell, the Guardians: All those things represent good, all that is sublime, splendid, noble, elevated, crystal pure. Because that is what protects our nonfreedom, which is to say, our happiness. #Quote by Yevgeny Zamyatin

#95. Put your arms around my waist,
Hold me close for a kiss and savour the taste,
I love you now I love you true,
Can I drown please in your eyes so blue?
Let's hang our hearts on a crescent moon,
And skinny-dip in starlit lakes to loves sweet tune,
Let's dance on boithrins grassy line,
And waltz 'Neath the canopied leaves of nature fine.
Lets sit afore fires on a winters night
Let me read you poetry aloud by candlelight,
Let's lay under the skylight and tell constellations apart,
And I'll remind you of the place you have in my heart. #Quote by Michelle Geaney

#96. Hell and Heaven are states of being, not destinations. They are worlds we carry within. Don't expect to find angels and demons -- not in the way you've envisioned them. As God is called Allah, so Man is called Monster. Don't be fooled by titles. Call a skunk a rose and it will continue to reek.

Hydras do not crawl out from between the weatherworn pages of fairytale anthologies. On the contrary, they ride the subway and order food at the local drive-through and enjoy stolen kisses at the cinema. Only one head is visible to the naked eye. They tend to avoid reflective surfaces.

Each head is a sin: each belch of fire is a sin put to action. But you should know that the shadows differ. There may be seven heads, or three, or one. Those with one head are particularly tricky. Who's to say if they're human or hydra? You'd have to kiss them, bite them. You would know them by their mouth. The name of their sin is tattooed on the inside of their bottom lip, so they can lick and taste its sweetness. #Quote by Angela Panayotopulos

#97. Why do you think I picked you?"

"Because I'm no trouble?"

"Because you're a dreamer and to me, your dreams taste like molten honey."

Imagine how that would scald your mouth!

"Not my mouth. It's my favorite treat. #Quote by Sarah K.L. Wilson

#98. You're becoming insatiable," he murmurs. "I've only got a taste for you," I whisper. #Quote by E.L. James

#99. Mrs Jackson rummaged tapped on Odette's bedroom door as Clarice rummaged through her best friend's chest of drawers searching for something to liven up, or cover up those dreadful dresses Odette always wore. The blind grandmother who had made her clothes back when she was a little girl was dead, but her grandma's style and taste lived on in Odette's sorry closet. #Quote by Edward Kelsey Moore

#100. The century's greatest detective, advertised as solving every case imaginable. How great his burden must be, how much pain must he go through every single moment: past, present, and future ... A burden so great it would leave you hunched over. A bitter taste in your mouth that would leave you longing for sweets.
-M #Quote by NisiOisiN

#101. I'm a pop enigma. I live and breathe every element in life. I rock a bespoke suit and I go to Harold's for fried chicken. It's all these things at once, because, as a taste maker, I find the best of everything. #Quote by Kanye West

#102. In the past, the thought of being in my present situation had been a comfort, but now I did not even have this to look forward to, and so I lay down on my bed and dreamt I was eating a bowl of pink mullet and green figs cooked in coconut milk, and it had been cooked by my grandmother, which was why the taste of it pleased me so, for she was the person I liked best in all the world and those were the things I like best to eat also. #Quote by Jamaica Kincaid

#103. One taste wouldn't hurt anything.
"You're not Little Red anymore," Drake said, his voice scratchy and deep, sounding strange to his own ears. "I'll only eat you if you ask me to. #Quote by Kristin Miller

#104. Again, we may decry the color-prejudice of the South, yet it remains a heavy fact. Such curious kinks of the human mind exist and must be reckoned with soberly. They cannot be laughed away, nor always successfully stormed at, nor easily abolished by act of legislature. And yet they must not be encouraged by being let alone. They must be recognized as facts, but unpleasant facts; things that stand in the way of civilization and religion and common decency. They can be met in but one way - by the breadth and broadening of human reason, by catholicity of taste and culture. #Quote by W.E.B. Du Bois

#105. But from what are we escaping by means of the
novel? From a reality we consider too overwhelming? Happy people read novels, too, and it is an
established fact that extreme suffering takes away the taste for reading. From another angle, the romantic
universe of the novel certainly has less substance than the other universe where people of flesh and blood
harass us without respite. #Quote by Albert Camus

#106. The workroom radio, tuned to FM 88.9, emitted Muddy Waters's throaty warbling. A rez station, WOJB did its best to hit every level of musical taste. Absolute bite-ya-in-the-ass blues was aired only during the wee hours.

Tracker's favorite time and music. #Quote by Mardi Oakley Medawar

#107. The pursuit of happiness, which American citizens are obliged to undertake, tends to involve them in trying to perpetuate the moods, tastes and aptitudes of youth. #Quote by Malcolm Muggeridge

#108. Compared with the person who had decorated and furnished the place, the Archduke Ferdinand had been blessed with the taste of a troupe of Turkish circus dwarves. #Quote by Philip Kerr

#109. When one is young, one venerates and despises without that art of nuances which constitutes the best gain of life, and it is only fair that one has to pay dearly for having assaulted men and things in this manner with Yes and No. Everything is arranged so that the worst of tastes, the taste for the unconditional, should be cruelly fooled and abused until a man learns to put a little art into his feelings and rather to risk trying even what is artificial - as the real artists of life do. #Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche

#110. We all have hometown appetites. Every other person is a bundle of longing for the simplicities of good taste once enjoyed on the farm or in the hometown left behind. #Quote by Clementine Paddleford

#111. But I am not allowed to forget
The taste of the tears of yesterday. #Quote by Anna Akhmatova

#112. Because yeah, females could be vanity hounds and most preferred their dates to have hair. Black, blond, red, it didn't matter, as long as the locks were thick and lustrous. And here was a news flash for little Miss Giggles: when he allowed his to grow, it was dark brown, nearly jet, with hints of gold and worthy of a fucking lion.
Not that he was feeling defensive or anything. #Quote by Gena Showalter

#113. Respectability offends my taste. #Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche

#114. Well?' he asks when I don't open my eyes and silently savor the goodness. 'What do you taste?'

I smile despite myself. 'The most amazing waffles under the sun. #Quote by Abbie Emmons

#115. Jealousy is the theory that some other fellow has just as little taste. #Quote by H.L. Mencken

#116. Surreal realized Daemon's madness was confined to emotions, to people, to that single tragedy he couldn't face. It was as if Titian had never died, as if Surreal hadn't spent three years whoring in back alleys before Daemon found her again and arranged for a proper education in a Red Moon house. He thought she was still a child, and he continued to fret about Titian's absence. But when she mentioned a book she was reading, he made a dry observation about her eclectic taste and proceeded to tell her about other books that might be of interest. It was the same with music, with art. They posed no threat to him, had no time frame, weren't part of the nightmare of Jaenelle bleeding on that Dark Altar. #Quote by Anne Bishop

#117. Mr. Lehrer's muse is not fettered by such inhibiting factors as taste. #Quote by The New York Times

#118. Roselyn lost her taste for bacon momentarily, which was as long as she was ever capable of losing it. #Quote by Thomm Quackenbush

#119. Ah, that tastes nice. Thank you. #Quote by Johannes Brahms

#120. He did things with his mouth she'd never even considered before. It was a brutally thorough kiss. Lacey was clinging to him weakly when he finally ended it. "Donna ye taste it?" he whispered, lowering her feet to the rug and peeling her hands from his shoulders. "What?" Lacey asked, seeing him through a haze of shock and desire. "The darkness. #Quote by Heather R. Blair

#121. No man can taste the fruits of autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of spring. #Quote by Samuel Johnson

#122. Editing cannot be taught. Developing your own taste cannot be taught. #Quote by Ellen Datlow

#123. At bottom, to be colored means that one has been caught in some utterly unbelievable cosmic joke, a joke so hideous and in such bad taste that it defeats all categories and definitions. #Quote by James A. Baldwin

#124. You know how you're at a party and you pick up the wrong beer, and you know after one sip that it's not yours? But then, when you find the right one, you know it right away? Why? What is it? The temperature, or the taste of your own spit that you somehow recognize? Or the weight and moistness of the can? Or maybe everything, all together. But it's all so subtle and complex you can't explain it. If someone asked, How do you know that's your beer? well, you wouldn't know what to say. You just know. #Quote by Rebecca Flowers

#125. And once you live a good story, you get a taste for a kind of meaning in life, and you can't go back to being normal; you can't go back to meaningless scenes stitched together by the forgettable thread of wasted time. #Quote by Donald Miller

#126. But it was long gone in the moment I decided that I wanted it all , the bad and the good everything , as long as I could taste his breath near mine and feel it collide into love. It didn't just hurt me emotionally , it hurt me in every way , I could feel the pain in every part of me , not only where I had wished that it would remain. #Quote by Arta Mekuli

#127. As I looked at her there among the pumpkins I was overcome with the color and the intesity of my life. In these moments we are driven to try and hoard happiness by taking photographs, but I know better. The improtant thing was what the colors stood for, the taste of hard apples and the existence of Lena and the exact quality of the sun on the last warm day in October. A photograph would have flattened the scene into a happy moment, whereas what I felt was rapture. The fleeting certainty that I deserved this space I'd been taking up on this earth, and all the air I had breathed. #Quote by Barbara Kingsolver

#128. Heroin makes you sick the first try. Cigarette smoking too if you're lucky. But if you're not lucky, and you develop a taste, if you're one who senses that cocaine gets better with time, or you're one who jumps out of a plane and becomes an adrenaline junky, or you're one who loves the feel of grease melting over your tongue in the form of pecan pie or thick clam chowder or a fat porterhouse or just plain ol' Doritos by the bagful, and you want to repeat the same comfort and recognizable surprise of that first go, that first indulgence, and yet with each succeeding bite the small hope of true satisfaction slides farther away, then you understand Celeste, at least a little. #Quote by Amanda Boyden

#129. The man who can be contented to live with a pretty and useful companion who has no mind has lost in voluptuous gratifications a taste for more refined pleasures; he has never felt the calm and refreshing satisfaction ... of being loved by someone who could understand him. #Quote by Mary Wollstonecraft

#130. Whether I'm making a recipe or a piece of jewelry or a white-rose-and-jasmine tea or the perfume, I like to think of myself as a happy little sorceress, and if I could just have a little general store with all that stuff and give people a sense of my taste, that would be lovely. #Quote by Padma Lakshmi

#131. I remember my first taste of American big movies was 'Ghost Rider.' I'm in two little scenes. But for those two little scenes they had 400 extras, upside-down stunt cars, and a fire brigade. #Quote by Rebel Wilson

#132. There is an old Greek saying that men are tormented not by things themselves but by what they think about them. If that assertion could be proved to be always true everywhere it would be an important point gained of the comforting of our wretched human condition. For if ills can only enter us through our judgemente it would seem to be in our power either to despise them or to deflect them towards the good: if the things actually do trow themselves on our mercy why do we not act as their masters and accomodate them to our advantage? If what we call evil or torment are only evil or torment insofar as our mental apprehension endows them with those qualities when it lies within our power to change those qualities. And if we did have such a choice and were free from constraint we would be curiously mad to pull in the direction which hurst us most, endowing sickness, poverty or insolence with a bad and bitter taste when we could give them a pleasent one, Fortune simply furnishing us with the matter and leaving it to us to supply the form. Let us see whether a case can be made for what we call evil not being an evil in itself or (since it amounts to the same) whether at least it is up to us to endow it with a different savour and aspect. #Quote by Michel De Montaigne

#133. I had to wonder why these people weren't protesting at their congressional offices or in Washington. Protesting the people who were ordered to protect them - let's just say it put a bad taste in my mouth. #Quote by Chris Kyle

#134. Fashions come and go; bad taste is timeless. #Quote by Beau Brummell

#135. The vices of man, as full of horror as one might suppose them to be, contain the proof (if in nothing else but their infinitely expandable nature) of his taste for the infinite; only, it is a taste that often takes a wrong turn. #Quote by Charles Baudelaire

#136. Unexpected discorporation was always rare on Mars; Martian taste in such matters called for life to be a rounded whole, with physical death taking place at the appropriate and selected instant. This artist, however, had become so preoccupied with his work that he had forgotten to come in out of the cold; by the time his absence was noticed his body was hardly fit to eat. He himself had not noticed his own discorporation and had gone right on composing his sequence. #Quote by Robert A. Heinlein

#137. Anais Nin responds to the age-old question of why some people are compelled to write:

We... write to heighten our own awareness of life, we write to lure and enchant and console others, we write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth, we write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely. We write as the birds sing. As the primitive dance their rituals. If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write.

Now, please read that one more time. But this time, substitute the word "live" for the word "write" and there you have it - the point that's always been right there in front of our nose. #Quote by Lee Eisenberg

#138. Wen you're a married man, Samivel, you'll understand a good many things as you don't understand now; but vether it's worth while goin' through so much to learn so little, as the charity-boy sand ven he go to the end of the alphabet, it's a matter of taste. #Quote by Charles Dickens

#139. To delight a child, to add a new joy to the crowded miracles of childhood, is no less worth doing than to leave a Sistine Chapel to astound a somewhat bored procession of tourists; or to have written a classic that sells by the thousands and is possessed unread by all save an infinitesimal percentage of its owners. It is, then, not an ignoble thing to do one's very best to give our coming rulers – children – a taste of the Kingdom of Art. #Quote by Gleeson White

#140. As the last drops fell from the glass to my tongue, I wondered - only for an instant - what perhaps I'd never know. What would it taste like, what would it feel like, if that liquid sliding down my throat was not champagne. But the elixir of life. Katheine Neville. #Quote by Bill Vaughan

#141. Everyone has the talent to some degree: even making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you know whether it tastes better to you with raspberry jam or grape jelly; on chewy pumpernickel or white toast. #Quote by Anna D. Shapiro

#142. This art, born of genius and good taste, can become beautiful and varied to an infinite degree. #Quote by Jean-Georges Noverre

#143. It is the very essence of art,' she [Hallie Flanagan:] told a group gathered in Washington ... , 'that it exceed bounds, often including those of tradition, decorum, and that mysterious thing called taste. It is the essence of art that it shatter accepted patterns, advance into unknown territory, challenge the existing order. Art is highly explosive. To be worth its salt it must have in that salt a fair sprinkling of gunpowder. #Quote by Susan Quinn

#144. I do not believe home is where we're born, or the place we grew up, not a birthright or an inheritance, not a name, or blood or country. It is not even the soft part that hurts when touched, that defines our loneliness the way a bowl defines water. It will not be located in a smell or taste or talisman or a word…
Home is our first real mistake. It is the one error that changes everything, the one lesson you could let destroy you. It is from this moment that we begin to build our home in the world. It is this place that we furnish with smell, taste, a talisman, a name. #Quote by Anne Michaels

#145. A catless writer is almost inconceivable. #Quote by Barbara Holland

#146. Humbling as it may be, for all our vaunted brain power, humans emerge as nothing special in the sensory sweepstakes. Our senses of vision, hearing, smell, taste, and touch are middling, at best. #Quote by Jonathan Balcombe

#147. [M]y inner self moved; my spirit shook its always-fettered wings half loose. I had a sudden feeling as if I, who never yet truly lived, were at last about to taste life. #Quote by Charlotte Bronte

#148. My darling love, I think you have a fundamental misconception about what it means to be a great dandy. I have better taste than anyone else so I don't care what anyone else thinks about anything. I am right and they are wrong. #Quote by Miranda Neville

#149. I am willing to taste any drink once. #Quote by James Branch Cabell

#150. I do feel a kinship with anthropology or ethnography, although when you hear those terms you think of something exotic. Generally, photographic anthropology has that taste of the faraway or undiscovered place. But my anthropology has more to do with what's in my reach. #Quote by Ari Marcopoulos

#151. It is not to everyone's taste that truth should be pronounced pleasant. But at least let no one believe that error becomes truth when it is pronounced unpleasant. #Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche

#152. I watched the piles of feces go up the conveyor belt ... They made their way through the machine ... A few minutes later I took a long taste of the end result: a glass of delicious drinking water. #Quote by Bill Gates

#153. You see, there are three factors one must consider when choosing a snack from a vending machine. Substance, for one. It needs to hold you over until real food is available. Freshness, which your cereal bar is sorely lacking. And finally" - his eyes dropped to her mouth - "taste. #Quote by Tessa Bailey

#154. The intellectual quest is exquisite like pearls and coral, But it is not the same as the spiritual quest. The spiritual quest is on another level altogether, Spiritual wine has a subtler taste. The intellect and the senses investigate cause and effect. The spiritual seeker surrenders to the wonder. #Quote by Rumi

#155. Why do they always put mud into coffee on board steamers? Why does the tea generally taste of boiled boots? #Quote by William Makepeace Thackeray

#156. He had no tolerance for acts of betrayal or cruelty and lacked Angelo's taste for the minute details of a business deal. He was a man totally in the moment, who knew only to respond to the action with an action. He was a pure gangster. #Quote by Lorenzo Carcaterra

#157. We never taste a perfect joy; our happiest successes are mixed with sadness. #Quote by Pierre Corneille

#158. I will give you a few guarantees of my own, Mukthar. I guarantee that before the sun sets, even if you win, even if my cold, dead body is lying on the field, you will rue the day you ever set foot in the Plains. For every inch you advance I'll exact gallons of Mukthar blood. I guarantee that there will be not one family of the Bear Mukthars or they will mourn at least one of theirs. I guarantee that even if you are triumphant the fruits of victory will taste like dust in your mouth. I guarantee that if you fail to kill me today, you will meet me again. You will meet me at the Ximerionian border. You will meet me at every city, town, village, and hamlet. You will meet me on every Amirathan crossroad, on every hill. I will fight you with every sword at my command, with every arrow, with every dagger. I will fight you with pitchforks. I will fight you with the very rocks of the land you try to conquer. I will never, never, never give up.

~Anaxantis, before the Battle of the Zinchara (May 29th, 1453 aed) #Quote by Andrew Ashling

#159. Come to think of it, Edgar, what's your favourite food?"
"Plum and honey sorbet"
"I see, I didn't know."
"It was the the taste on your lips earlier. #Quote by Mizue Tani

#160. The first pressure of sorrow crushes out from our hearts the best wine; afterwards the constant weight of it brings forth bitterness, the taste and stain from the lees of the vat. #Quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

#161. Sadly, although the source of much enjoyment, Ginger the pig progressed from hunting and killing chickens to lambs and, after a stab at my mother's ankles, was banished to the freezer before she developed a taste for small children. #Quote by Bill Bryson

#162. How sweet it is to let God purge our souls of ego and bitterness, and to have a little taste of heaven here on earth. #Quote by Marilyn Nelson

#163. I talked with Junior Allen. He didn't have his mind on it. He was crouched in the brush, and he could taste lamb, and he was alerted for the first shy sound of the little hoofs coming along the trail. I gently and indirectly advanced the idea of my coming along, and he firmly closed the door. He got up and sprang nimbly onto the dock, snapped the weak dock light on, checked his lines, adjusted a fender and came aboard again, restless. #Quote by John D. MacDonald

#164. Color is a matter of taste and of sensitivity. #Quote by Edouard Manet

#165. What would angel lips taste like? Sunshine? Marshmallows? Or something altogether different? Maybe buttered-popcorn jelly beans. #Quote by Lisa M. Basso

#166. He'd been ready to push her away, and then she'd grabbed him at her mother's call. Wasn't his fault he gave in to instinct to save their ruse.
Until her hot, wet mouth opened under his. Until her sweet taste swamped his senses, and the maddening scents of vanilla and spice made him want to howl at the moon. He finally knew she approached sex the same way she approached anger - no holds barred - no prisoners taken. Demanding. Punishing. Passionate. #Quote by Jennifer Probst

#167. We can recognize and give credit where credit is due, to the debt of taste we owe Europe, but we have taste, too. #Quote by Billy Baldwin

#168. Gratitude is a divine emotion. It fills the heart, 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 flavor. #Quote by Charlotte Bronte

#169. They had a nice,if not private, reunion before Rupert joined them. He didn't exactly ruin it, but if he insisted on enacting their pretense tonight, even for her mother,it surely would. Unfortunately, he entered the room wearing a horribly bright lime-green dinner jacket that had his mother immediately scowling at him. So even after that kiss upstairs, he'd decided on an evening of humorously baiting his mother again. Bad timing, with her own mother there, or maybe not.At least it kept Rebecca's own mood light for the moment, since she knew why he did it.
Nor did Julie hold her tongue, remarking in disgust, "I see your taste is still beyond flamboyant. You're a bloody peacock, Rue."
He actually looked behind him as he replied, "I thought I had my feathers tucked away nicely. #Quote by Johanna Lindsey

#170. The Romantic vision of marriage stresses the importance of finding the "right" person, which is taken to mean someone in sympathy with the raft of our interests and values. There is no such person over the long term. We are too varied and peculiar. There cannot be lasting congruence. The partner truly best suited to us is not the one who miraculously happens to share every taste but the one who can negotiate differences in taste with intelligence and good grace.

Rather than some notional idea of perfect complementarity, it is the capacity to tolerate dissimilarity that is the true marker of the "right" person. Compatibility is an achievement of love; it shouldn't be its precondition. #Quote by Alain De Botton

#171. It is perfectly easy to be original by violating the laws of decency and the canons of good taste. #Quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

#172. She didn't plan for me to need her like I do - to need to feel her body beneath mine, to need to taste her soft recesses, to need to be inside her more and more with every day that passes. #Quote by M. Leighton

#173. It's always considered bad taste to comment on a tragedy right when it's happening, but I love when something is considered too soon to talk about because then you can blast past that social censorship to get into something real. #Quote by Margaret Cho

#174. If this was power, why did it taste like tedium? #Quote by George R R Martin

#175. I taste a liquor never brewed"

I taste a liquor never brewed --
From Tankards scooped in Pearl --
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of Air -- am I --
And Debauchee of Dew --
Reeling -- thro endless summer days --
From inns of Molten Blue --

When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door --
When Butterflies -- renounce their "drams" --
I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats --
And Saints -- to windows run --
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the -- Sun -- #Quote by Emily Dickinson

#176. It is not too late... there is time still."
I am dying.
There are tears in my eyes.
Please cradle my head in your hand.
Let me look into the stars.
Are they really in the sky?
Or are they just in my mind because what is there I cannot see?
The woman tilted her head, revealing a rim of bruising around a clean-tucked hole in her head. There was blood. Dry blood.
This is more pain than a human heart can bear.
Like fistfuls of fear, cries shoot from my eyes.
There are tears running down my face.
It is a salty, bitter taste.
My wounds need care.
I look up to my mom, but can think of nothing to say.
I am dying.
I need you.
Embrace me.
I am dying...
"Shhhh... #Quote by Milan Sime Martinic, Ironway: Watching Over Benjamin Hill -

#177. A chef should make a dish using only my words as ingredients. My words will taste great in your mouth. #Quote by Jarod Kintz

#178. Less knows so well the pleasures of youth - danger, excitement, losing oneself in a dark club with a pill, a shot, a stranger's mouth - and, with Robert and his friends, the pleasures of age - comfort and ease, beauty and taste, old friends and old stories and wine, whiskey, sunset over water. His entire life, he has alternated between the two. There is his own distant youth, that daily humiliation of rinsing out your one good shirt and putting on your onw good smile, along with the daily rush of newness: new pleasures, new people, new reflections of yourself. There is Robert's middle age of selecting his vices as carefully as tiles in a Paris shop, napping in the sunlight on an afternoon and getting up from a chair and hearing the creak of death. The city of youth, the country of age. But in between, where Less is living - that exurban existence? How has he never learned to live it? #Quote by Andrew Sean Greer

#179. He appeared to spend a lot of money on really bad clothes. #Quote by John Le Carre

#180. I own an indie bookshop, if I tried to tell customers that their view of a book was wrong I wouldn't even be able to pay the rent! #Quote by A. Cretan

#181. She told me that Melisande had borne a daughter, and that one day . . . one day she would like for us to meet. And so when your father advertised the fact that he was looking for a husband for his daughter - "
"Advertised," she interrupted.
"Oh, yes. Far and wide. Princess. Beautiful. Nubile. Available to big strong man, with even bigger sword." Mickel thumped his chest. "I was intrigued. I was mortified. I thought I would save the daughter of my mother's best friend from a fate worse than death."
"And if I had been a loud mouthed harridan with a taste for garlic and a fear of bathing?"
"I would have been the Warlord everyone thinks I am, tossed her aside like a sack of potatoes in a white wedding dress, and asked for the hand of a peculiar redheaded woman I met on the road."
Sally smiled. "And if she said no?" "Well," Mickel said, kissing her hand. "I may not be the Warlord of the Savage Belly Ache, but I am exceptionally brave. I would fight for her. #Quote by Sharon Shinn

#182. I have spent these several days past, in reading and writing, with the most pleasing tranquility imaginable. You will ask, "How that can possibly be in the midst of Rome?" It was the time of celebrating the Circensian games; an entertainment for which I have not the least taste. They have no novelty, no variety to recommend them, nothing, in short, one would wish to see twice. It does the more surprise me therefore that so many thousand people should be possessed with the childish passion of desiring so often to see a parcel of horses gallop, and men standing upright in their chariots. If, indeed, it were the swiftness of the horses, or the skill of the men that attracted them, there might be some pretence of reason for it. But it is the dress they like; it is the dress that takes their fancy. And if, in the midst of the course and contest, the different parties were to change colours, their different partisans would change sides, and instantly desert the very same men and horses whom just before they were eagerly following with their eyes, as far as they could see, and shouting out their names with all their might. Such mighty charms, such wondrous power reside in the colour of a paltry tunic! And this not only with the common crowd (more contemptible than the dress they espouse), but even with serious-thinking people. When I observe such men thus insatiably fond of so silly, so low, so uninteresting, so common an entertainment, I congratulate myself on my indifference to th #Quote by Pliny The Younger

#183. He'd bet his right nut her skin would taste as good as it smelled. #Quote by Kelly Moran

#184. I love bright red drinks, don't you? They taste twice as good as any other color. #Quote by L.M. Montgomery

#185. It's a real gift to work with my sister. We obviously have such a shorthand communicating with each other that it makes the process easier. And from growing up together and watching so many films together, we ended up with pretty similar taste. #Quote by Jennifer Todd

#186. Real history was unromantic, steeped in greed and blood and abject eye-rolling stupidity. An endless parade of putative Ozymandiases marching off to glory before snapping off at the ankles in the depths of the desert: that was human history. Every now and then there would be the pretence of civilisation, but soon enough the restless, hateful, atavistic hearts of humanity would tear down the towers and slide back into barbarism, squealing with glee. Decadence loves the taste of blood, even though it is poison. #Quote by Jonathan L. Howard

#187. I know how soon youth would fade and bloom perish, if, in the cup of bliss offered, but one dreg of shame, or one flavour of remorse were detected; and I do not want sacrifice, sorrow, dissolution - such is not my taste. I wish to foster, not to blight - to earn gratitude, not to wring tears of blood - no, nor of brine: my harvest must be in smiles, in endearments, in sweet. #Quote by Charlotte Bronte

#188. Taste every time you cook, and take nothing for granted--not even your own palate, for it can change. Mine has.... Since doing time on a salt-free diet, I approach a plain baked potato reverently. Maybe I've been missing the truth--the nutty, delicate earthiness of a perfect baked potato. Salt only masks it. In a fancy mood, I heighten it with caviar; in a plain mood, I just give it several grinds of fresh black pepper. #Quote by James Beard

#189. Come beloved, and sit at the gate of Nothingness, God will bring you bread without the taste of bread, Sweetness without the honey or the bee, And when the future and past are dissolved There will only be you, lying senseless like a lute On the breast of God. - Rumi #Quote by Ian Gawler

#190. For tea she went down to see Misses Spink and Forcible. She had three digestive biscuits, a glass of limeade, and a cup of weak tea. The limeade was very interesting. It didn't taste anything like limes. It tasted bright green and vaguely chemical. Coraline liked it enormously. She wished they had it at home.
"How are your dear mother and father?" asked Miss Spink.
"Missing," said Coraline. "I haven't seen either of them since yesterday. I'm on my own. I think I've probably become a single child family. #Quote by Neil Gaiman

#191. I like to work really hard and then earn the good life. I actually enjoy it. If you're eating caviar all the time, it doesn't taste good anymore. #Quote by Alec Monopoly

#192. When the cook tastes the soup, that's formative: when the guests taste the soup, that's summative. #Quote by Clare Landrigan

#193. Mondays taste like split-pea soup,

Tuesdays taste like gobbledygook,

Wednesdays taste like licorice,

Thursdays taste like deep-fried fish,

Fridays taste like the color red,

Saturdays taste like gingerbread,

Sundays taste like chicken breast,

But birthdays! Birthdays taste the best!

Birthdays taste like chocolate cake,

Balloons, presents, and sirloin steak. #Quote by Claudine Carmel

#194. She exists, Damon. There are women out there who crave what we can give them. Once you taste it, you can't ever let go of it, #Quote by Maya Banks

#195. I learned not to care ... and to write for an imaginary reader whose tastes were similar to my own. #Quote by Terry Southern

#196. This rich pork flavor, which lands on the tongue with a thump...
It's Chinese Dongpo Pork! He seasoned pork belly with a blend of spices and let it marinate thoroughly...
... before finely dicing it and mixing it into the fried rice!"
"What? Dongpo Pork prepared this fast?! No way! He didn't have nearly enough time to simmer the pork belly!"
"Heh heh. Actually, there's a little trick to that.
I simmered it in sparkling water instead of tap water. The carbon dioxide that gives sparkling water its carbonation helps break down the fibers in meat. Using this, you can tenderize a piece of meat in less than half the normal time!"
"That isn't the only protein in this dish. I can taste the seafood from an Acqua Pazza too!"
"And these green beans... it's the Indian dish Poriyal!
Diced green beans and shredded coconut fried in oil with chilies and mustard seeds... it has a wonderfully spicy kick!"
"He also used the distinctly French Mirepoix to gently accentuate the sweetness of the vegetables.
So many different delicious flavors...
... all clashing and sparking in my mouth!
But the biggest key to this dish, and the core of its amazing deliciousness...
... is the rice!"
"Hmph. Well, of course it is. The dish is fried rice. If the rice isn't the centerpiece, it isn't a..."
"I see. His dish is fried rice while simultaneously being something other than fried rice.
A rice lightly fried in butter before being st #Quote by Yuto Tsukuda

#197. The end of the world made gelato taste a lot better #Quote by Rick Riordan

#198. Taste of forbidden fruit, made all the more exciting #Quote by Andrzej Sapkowski

#199. The artist must try to raise the level of taste of the masses, not debase himself to the level of unformed and impoverished taste. #Quote by Diego Rivera

#200. That to the adolescent is the authentic poetic note and whoever is the first in his life to strike it, whether Tennyson, Keats, Swinburne, Housman or another, awakens a passion of imitation and an affectation which no subsequent refinement or sophistication of his taste can entirely destroy. In my own case it was Hardy in the summer of 1923; for more than a year I read no one else and I do not think that I was ever without one volume or another or the beautifully produced Wessex edition in my hands: I smuggled them into class, carried them about on Sunday walks, and took them up to the dormitory to read in the early morning, though they were far too unwieldy to be read in bed with comfort. In the autumn of 1924 there was a palace revolution after which he had to share his kingdom with Edward Thomas, until finally they were both defeated by Elliot at the battle of Oxford in 1926. #Quote by W. H. Auden