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Sweet Quotes

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Sweet Quotes

“And what is more melancholy than the old apple-trees that linger about the spot where once stood a homestead, but where there is now only a ruined chimney rising our of a grassy and weed-grown cellar? They offer their fruit to every wayfarer--apples that are bitter-sweet with the moral of times vicissitude.”

Moral Tree Sweet Offers Fruit Bitter Spots Apples Rising Melancholy Weed Ruined Cellars Chimneys Vicissitudes Apple Trees Bitter Sweet

Book:Mosses from an Old Manse

Source: Mosses from an Old Manse

“Up until Prohibition, an apple grown in America was far less likely to be eaten than to wind up in a barrel of cider. ("Hard" cider is a twentieth-century term, redundant before then since virtually all cider was hard until modern refrigeration allowed people to keep sweet cider sweet.)”

People Hard America Term Modern Century Sweet Wind Apples Twentieth Century Prohibition Barrels Redundant Cider Apple Cider

Book:The Botany of Desire: A Plant's-Eye View of the World

Source: The Botany of Desire: A Plant's-Eye View of the World

“Relationships are like apples: they can be sweet and satisfying. But once you bite into a bad one, it's hard to go back to the barrel again.”

Hard Sweet Apples Bites Satisfying Barrels

Author:John Avery

“For me, it's the unexpected and surprising combinations of produce that are the most exciting and lure me into the kitchen for a little bit of experimenting. Apples and sweet potatoes together? Who knew? Carrots with grapes? Okay. I may not be Julia Child, but I can do pretty well with a simple recipe and a lot of enthusiasm.”

“The girls I dream of are the gentle ones, wistful by high windows or singing sweet old songs at a piano, long hair drifting, tender as apple blossom. But a girl who goes into battle beside you and keeps your back is a different thing, a thing to make you shiver. Think of the first time you slept with someone, or the first time you fell in love: that blinding explosion that left you cracking to the fingertips with electricity, initiated and transformed. I tell you that was nothing, nothing at all, beside the power of putting your lives, simply and daily, into each other's hands.”

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.”

Source: Poetry Manuscripts at Harvard

“When my parents were liberated, four years before I was born, they found that the ordinary world outside the camp had been eradicated. There was no more simple meal, no thing was less than extraordinary: a fork, a mattress, a clean shirt, a book. Not to mention such things that can make one weep: an orange, meat and vegetables, hot water. There was no ordinariness to return to, no refuge from the blinding potency of things, an apple screaming its sweet juice.”

“Teasingly she took the apple from his mouth. Juice ran down his chin. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned over and licked the sweet juice from his chin. I will have to admit though, that I will never look at an apple in quite the same way.”

Way Looks Sweet Mouths Ran Apples Juice Chins

Author:Terry Goodkind

“Peter curled his hands into fists at his sides. 'Kiss me,' he said. She leaned towards him slowly, until her face was too close to be in focus. Her hair fell over Peter's shoulder like a curtain and her eyes closed. She smelled like autumn-like apple cider and slanting sun and the snap of the coming cold. He felt his heart scrambling, caught inside the confines of his own body. Josie's lips landed just on the edge of his, almost his cheek and not quite his mouth. 'I'm glad I wasn't stuck in here alone,' she said shyly, and he tasted the words, sweet as mint on her breath.”

Source: The Jodi Picoult Collection #3: Vanishing Acts, The Tenth Circle, and Nineteen Minutes

“Peppermint swirled into my nostrils, sharp as glass, then raspberry almost to sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple, crisp and pure. Nuts, buttery, warm, earthy”

Sweet Pure Fruit Glasses Warm Apples Nuts Ripe Crisps Ripe Fruit Raspberries Peppermint

Book:Shiver Trilogy (Shiver, Linger, Forever)

Source: Shiver Trilogy (Shiver, Linger, Forever)

“I read somewhere once that souls were like flowers,' said Priscilla. 'Then your soul is a golden narcissus,' said Anne, 'and Diana's is like a red, red rose. Jane's is an apple blossom, pink and wholesome and sweet.' 'And our own is a white violet, with purple streaks in its heart,' finished Priscilla.”

Heart Said Soul White Sweet Flower Red Rose Finished Golden Your Soul Apples Violet Purple Jane Streaks Diana Red Rose Narcissus

Author:Lucy Maud Montgomery

“There was a fire in the wide hearth before them, and it was burning with a sweet smell, as if it were built of apple-wood.”

Ifs Fire Sweet Built Woods Smell Wide Burning Apples

Book:The Fellowship of the Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings

Source: The Fellowship of the Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings

“Sometimes I think that if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn. Not that I wouldn't love to have a final roll in the hay - I am a man yet, and something never die - but the thought of those sweet kernels bursting between my teeth sure sets my mouth to watering. It's fantasy, I know that. Neither will happen. I just like to weight the options, as though I were standing in front of Solomon: a final roll in the hay or an ear of corn. What a wonderful dilemma. Sometimes I substitute an apple for the corn.”

Ifs Thinking Knows Men Sometimes Happens Dies Fantasy Wonderful Fronts Sweet Mouths Standing Ears Weight Finals Teeth Apples Substitutes Making Love Corn Dilemma Bursting Solomon Hay Kernel

Author:Sara Gruen

“He Looked and smelt like Autumn's very brother, his face being sunburnt to wheat-colour, his eyes blue as corn-flowers, his sleeves and leggings dyed with fruit-stains, his hands clammy with the sweet juice of apples, his hat sprinkled with pips, and everywhere about him the sweet atmosphere of cider which at its first return each season has such an indescribable fascination for those who have been born and bred among the orchards.”

Source: Delphi Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated)