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Tea Quotes

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Tea Quotes

“Shall I make you a cup of tea? He asked. It was the classic response to crisis practiced throughout these islands—in England, Scotland, and elsewhere. Emotional turmoil, danger, even disaster could be faced with far greater equanimity if the kettle was switched on. War has been declared! There’s been a major earthquake! The stock market has collapsed! Oh really? Let me put the kettle on….”

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Book:The Revolving Door of Life
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“Beatriz breathed in the sweet aromas that lately appealed to her. Those at the forefront were of various honeys in the wooden honey pots anchoring the tablecloth: lavender, orange blossom, and eucalyptus. But the room was a cornucopia of visual and olfactory treats. Marcona almonds were roasting in Reuben's old wood oven, and from the kitchen downstairs wafted scents of all the spices they would be offering their customers fresh over the counter in cloth bags: cinnamon stalks, cloves, anise, ground ginger, juniper berries, finely grated nutmeg. Nora and Beatriz packaged all the spices themselves. They would also offer ribbon-tied bags of Phillip's tea creations served in the café: loose leaves of lemon verbena, dried pennyroyal, black tea with vanilla. All around the room, on the floor, shelves, and counters, were baskets and baskets and baskets of irresistible delights: jars of marmalades and honeys and pure, dark, sugarless chocolate pieces ready to melt with milk at home for the richest hot chocolate. Customers could even buy jars of chocolate shavings, to sprinkle over warmed pears and whipped cream, or over the whipped cream on their hot chocolates. They sold truffles white and dark, with or without rum, biscuits with every variation of nuts and spices, bars small or large of their own chocolate, and dried fruits dipped in chocolate.”

TreatsAuthenticityTeaHoneySpicesVintageHomemadeChocolatesArtisan
Book:The Summer Kitchen
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“The passion of steeped leaves and stewed broth is a philter that triumphs in our veins. It is our heritage, it is our religion, it is the glory of our being. It is our honour to show the rest of the uncivilized world how a refined and educated society operates. Nothing can be done without tea. For a thing to be done right and to be done well, a hand must be furnished with a cup filled to the brim with the finest vintage of dried and simmered vegetation. There is no other way, I tell you. For a Marridon-born man not to like tea is immoral. It makes him low, shows him to be wholly vulgar and unable to appreciate and welter in all the rapture that such scandal-broth can supply. A sniveling guttersnipe might not like tea, but a knight, a member of the highest order, a banner of Marridonian heraldry, cannot dislike it. It is folly to think so, absolute humbuggery. You are one of the high boughs of Marridon’s ancient tree, sir knight. You are practically born with leaves to steep, to stew, to swelter, to sip. It is almost treasonous not to like tea. I am considered a recluse amongst Marridon’s high society, and even I understand why I must like tea. It is the drink of the thinking man, to be deliberated over and deliciated, to be relished and reveled in, that all its secrets of higher cogitation might be extricated and beloved. One must immerse himself in the distillation if he is to properly understand it. To drink tea ponderously is all the learned Marridonian should ever aspire to.”

HumorTeaDamson S Distress
Author:Michelle Franklin
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“When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.”

ComfortTeaMealsToastCoziness
Book:The wind in the willows
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“Nei giorni di pioggia, ascolta la pioggia. Nei giorni di neve, guarda la neve. In estate apprezza il caldo, in inverno, il freddo che gela le ossa... Qualsiasi giorno, godilo pienamente per quello che è. Il tè è questo modo di vivere.”

SeasonsTeaCarpe DiemTea Ceremony
Book:Every Day a Good Day: Fifteen lessons I learned about happiness from Japanese tea culture
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“Ciò cui mirano sia la scuola che il tè è la crescita della persona. Però, con una importante differenza: a scuola ci si confronta con l'altro, mentre nella cerimonia del tè, ci si confronta con il se stesso di ieri.”

TeachingSelf ImprovementTeaSelf KnowledgeTea Ceremony
Book:Every Day a Good Day: Fifteen lessons I learned about happiness from Japanese tea culture
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“C'è anche chi dice: «Il tè è la bellezza formale della vita di un tempo». «E' il culmine delle arti giapponesi», pensano altri. Qualcuno, poi, ha scritto: «E' la religione della bellezza, nella quale si mira al vuoto attraverso la tenace pratica dell'otemae». «Un concentrato di saggezza esistenziale, incentrata sulle stagioni». «Uno stile zen»... Il tè ammette qualsiasi interpretazione. E allora anche alla mia visione corrisponde un mondo del tè. Forse il tè è un riflesso di ciascuno: ci sono tanti tè quante persone.”

TeaJapanese CultureTea Ceremony
Book:Every Day a Good Day: Fifteen lessons I learned about happiness from Japanese tea culture
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“I looked at Judith. "This sounds strange, but I don't suppose you saw three mad women with a cauldron of boiling tea pass by this way?" "No," she replied. The polite voice of reasonable people scared of exciting the madman. "Flash of light? Puff of smoke? Erm..." I tried to find a polite way of describing the symptoms of spontaneous teleportation without using the dreaded "teleportation" word. I failed. I slumped back into the sand. What kind of mystic kept a spatial vortex at the bottom of their cauldrons of tea anyway?”

HumorTeaThe Midnight MayorKate GriffinTeleportation
Book:The Midnight Mayor
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“I sipped my hot, sweet, milky tea, feeling myself settle, center. I couldn't possibly stay in a state of high emotion, and there was a lot to get through in the next few days or weeks. Right this minute, I could enjoy this table in a bakery in a small English village. The place was clearing out, and the chelsea bun beckoned. It was a coil of pastry laced with currants and a hint of lemon zest, quite sweet. I gave it the attention it deserved, since a person couldn't be pigging out on pastries and eggs and bacon all the time. Not me, anyway. Unlike my slender mother, I was built of rounder stuff, and I hadn't been able to walk as much as was my habit. In the meantime, the tea was excellent, served in a sturdy silver pot with a mug that didn't seem to match any other mug on the tables. The room smelled of yeast and coffee and cinnamon and the perfume of a woman who had walked by. Light classical music played quietly. From the kitchen came voices engaged in the production of all the goods in the case. A rich sense of well-being spread through me, and I realized that my leg didn't hurt at all.”

TeaChelseaBunsIn The MomentPastryBakery
Book:The Art of Inheriting Secrets
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“In the kitchen, she made passionflower tea, turning the jar of loose leaves in her hand while a teaspoon's worth steeped in her mug. The tea was local, made from an herb that rarely grew in New England but did on Quinnipeague. A natural sedative, passionflower was another of Cecily Cole's gems. The tea was still steeping when she decided she was hungry. On impulse, she took a jar of strawberry jam from the cupboard. It, too, was local, put up the fall before by one of the island women. Unscrewing the lid, she pried a layer of wax from the top and, taking a spoon, sampled it straight from the jar. She closed her eyes, isolating the sense of taste for the greatest enjoyment. Strawberries... and vanilla? Eyes popping open, she peered into the glass until she spotted the bean among the berries. A single bean. No surprise there. Vanilla beans came from a variety of orchid that had no business growing up on Quinnipeague, but did. Not only was the flower a more vivid yellow than elsewhere, but the bean was potent.”

TeaLocalNicole CarlysleStrawberry JamPassionflowerVanilla Beans
Book:Sweet Salt Air
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“When things are good, it is because we remember a time when they were not. When there was pain. But now the pain is gone, so things are ‘good’. When we hurt, it is because we recall a time when we did not. When there was no pain. But now we suffer, so things are ‘bad’. The tiger sipped from the cup, peering at the boy over the rim. Stars swirled in its eyes. “Good. Bad. The cup holds both.”

InspirationalWisdomSufferingConsciousnessBuddhismTeaMysticismTaoCatsMiddle Grade FantasyGoodness And Evil
Book:The Cat's Maw
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“Tea first came to Japan in the sixth century by way of Japanese Buddhist monks, scholars, warriors, and merchants who traveled to China and brought back tea pressed into bricks. It was not until 1911, during the Song dynasty, that the Japanese Buddhist priest Eisai (also known as Yosai) carried home from China fine-quality tea seeds and the method for making matcha (powdered green tea). The tea seeds were cultivated on the grounds of several Kyoto temples and later in such areas as the Uji district just south of Kyoto. Following the Chinese traditional method, Japanese Zen monks would steam, dry, then grind the tiny green tea leaves into a fine powder and whip it with a bamboo whisk in boiling water to create a thick medicinal drink to stimulate the senses during long periods of meditation.”

HistoryMethodTraditionalTeaGreen TeaTea LeavesMatcha
Book:Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto
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“The fanciest grade of green tea in Japan goes by the name of gyokuro, meaning "jade dew." It consists of the newest leaves of a tea plantation's oldest tea bushes that bud in May and have been carefully protected from the sun under a double canopy of black nylon mesh. The leaves are then either steeped in boiled water or ground into a powder to make matcha (literally, "grind tea"), the thick tea served at a tea ceremony. (The powder used to make the thin tea served at a tea ceremony comes from grinding the older leaves of young tea plants, resulting in a more bitter-tasting tea.) The middle grade of green tea is called sencha, or "brew tea," and is made from the unprotected young tea leaves that unfurl in May or June. The leaves are usually steeped in hot water to yield a fragrant grassy brew to enjoy on special occasions or in fancy restaurants. For everyday tea, the Japanese buy bancha. Often containing tiny tea twigs, it consists of the large, coarse, unprotected leaves that remain on the tea bush until August. When these leaves are roasted, they become a popular tea called hojicha. When hojicha combines with popped roasted brown rice, a tea called genmaicha results.”

TeaGreen TeaTea Leaves
Book:Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto
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“Those are the best evenings, when we fill up on bread bowls stuffed to the brim with clam chowder and then spend the full-moon-drenched night on the empty pier, gathering the thick, swirling clouds of raw magic. I wouldn't be able to spend late nights with Remy, cozied up in my room with magic-infused globes floating around us as we watch the latest episode of Demon Slayer projected on my ceiling, while sipping charmed mugs of yuzu honey tea.”

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Book:The Charmed List
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“A league of dragons emerged from the steam, all in a white, cloudy vapor. They flew upward to the sky. The fragrance of the tea reminded me of the high altitudes of the mountain, the blooming peonies from the rooftop garden, and the brininess of the Singing Sea. The intoxicating taste introduced an umami flavor I'd never experienced in any drink. The punch from its intensity matched my first taste of flame song whiskey and its richness, that of the most pungent king oyster mushrooms.”

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Book:Celestial Banquet
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