Best 1447 quotes in «coffee quotes» category

In this world, there are only a few things more available than gasoline: coffee, soda and beer. Oh, and bad advice.

Invece eccoci qui insieme, soddisfatti e sereni, ricchi e famosi, con un rapporto col sesso decisamente normale come bere un caffè: infatti ci piaceva forte e caldo, da consumare preferibilmente parecchie volte al giorno

I ordered my favorite drink; vanilla iced blended coffee with whipped cream and caramel sauce on top. The whipped cream and caramel sauce were the best. Usually when no one was watching, I would lick the inside of the lid to get every last drop of the addictive syrup. Once, my dad caught me doing this and started laughing. I'd gotten caramel plastered over my nose. If Colt had ever seen me do this, I would never live it down. Glancing around, I indulged shamelessly and grinned." -Cheyenne

I ordered a single espresso because I wanted a drink I could hook up with.

I sauntered to the kitchen, where the lone pot of afternoon coffee had been reduced to thick black syrup. Glad that no one was around to watch, I filled a Styrofoam cup halfway with the molten matter, swished it, and sniffed. Nose of burning rubber, with light tar accents. I topped it off with Sparklett's, then nuked it. Kills the germs.

Safety first! Just kidding. Coffee first, Safety's, like , third or fourth. -MEME

I set the coffee aside and got a cup of water instead. I could never see why people drank that stuff. It tasted like soil boiled in mud, wit a topping of dirt.

I should've suspected trouble when the coffee failed to arrive.

I signed over my entire business for the sum of ten pounds and a gorilla-shaped hat. It would have been twenty pounds but I really wanted that hat.

I should never do anything pre-coffee. 'It was only a teeny fire,' I told my uncle over the phone.

I sip my coffee. If you've never had black coffee, here's what it's like: death. Bitter, angry, hot death, crawling inside your mouth and taking off the socks it's been wearing all summer and wiping its gross, sweaty feet on the very back of your tongue, and then pushing you in the backs of your eyeballs. That, plus dirt. That's what black coffee is like.

I snatched up the cardboard cup, plastered my lips to the plastic sippy-lid and sucked down a scalding hot mouthful. It burned, but I didn’t give a damn. I held the cup to my chest as if it were my most special friend while feeling the instant affect the coffee had on my mood and I smiled. “Hello lover.

I stood in your doorway this morning dreaming you’d turn around you’d tilt your head you’d softly whisper ”stay” or that you’d grab my arms to shake me while asking what the hell are we doing we love each other and this is not right so we will make this work now stay! You poured your coffee. Stirred the spoon like a crystal man with your back to me and not a sound. the fridge humming elegies while the clock ticked on and the streets are so clean here people rushing to work and maybe I should be too by now at this age this stage this town. I will stand in that doorway dreaming for many nights to come.

It is you who decides what you have, even if it be nothing.

I stopped thinking and watched in horror as Tex banged the portafilter on top of the espresso machine. Monty hit a button and was drowned out by Tex’s voice shouting, “Fucking steam! Give me some more fucking steam, you monster!” Which was followed by Duke shouting, “It only gives as much steam as it gives, man!” Wonderful.

I surround myself with books when I write, thus surrounding myself with writers... only they don't critique me and then get up for coffee.

I think much of a #writerslife is figuring out how much coffee is needed to fuel madness & creativity while avoiding having to pee.

I thought of the cool, fresh air of the city I'd always dreamed of living in. The art museums and trolleys and the mysterious fog that blanketed it. I could almost smell the cappuccinos I'd planned to drink in bohemian cafes or hear the indie music in the bookstores I would spend my free time in. I pictured the friends I'd make, my kindred art people, and the dorm room I was supposed to move into.

It rather goes without saying that Katherine drank her coffee black. Katherines do, generally. They like their coffee like they like their ex-boyfriends: bitter.

It's a five pots of liquid sleep kind of morning.

It's Hard to order just a black coffee these days. That's the kind of miserable world we live in.

It's early on a beautiful winter morning. The house is quiet. The sun is shining. I'm thankful. I'm happy. My cup runneth over. Now there's coffee everywhere.

It turned out people truly did cry into their coffee cups.

It's mechanical," Leo said. "Maybe a doorway to the dwarfs' secret lair?" "Ooooo!" shrieked a nearby voice. "Secret lair?" "I want a secret lair!" yelled another voice from above. ... "If we had a secret lair," said Red Fur, "I would want a firehouse pole." "And a waterslide!" said Brown Fur, who was pulling random tools out of Leo's belt, tossing aside wrenches, hammers, and staple guns. "Stop that!" Leo tried to grab the dwarf's feet, but he couldn't reach the top of the pedestal. "Too short?" Brown Fur sympathized. "You're calling me short?" Leo looked around for something to throw, but there was nothing but pigeons, and he doubted he could catch one. "Give me my belt, you stupid-" "Now, now!" said Brown Fur. "We haven't even introduced ourselves. I'm Akmon, and my brother over there-" "-is the handsome one!" The red-furred dwarf lifted his espresso. Judging from his dilated eyes and maniacal grin, he didn't need any more caffeine. "Passolos! Singer of songs! Drinker of coffee! Stealer of shiny stuff!

It's over," Keelie said. Too bad. But I want you to know, I will always love you." She narrowed her eyes and said, "When you look at me and say that, are you thinking of Dolly Parton or Whitney Houston?" Burt Reynolds," he said. She nearly spit out her coffee when she laughed, then she said, "That almost makes me want to try again.

It was a very ordinary day, the day I realised that my becoming is my life and my home and that I don't have to do anything but trust the process, trust my story and enjoy the journey. It doesn't really matter who I've become by the finish line, the important things are the changes from this morning to when I fall asleep again, and how they happened, and who they happened with. An hour watching the stars, a coffee in the morning with someone beautiful, intelligent conversations at 5am while sharing the last cigarette. Taking trains to nowhere, walking hand in hand through foreign cities with someone you love. Oceans and poetry. It was all very ordinary until my identity appeared, until my body and mind became one being. The day I saw the flowers and learned how to turn my daily struggles into the most extraordinary moments. Moments worth writing about. For so long I let my life slip through my fingers, like water. I'm holding on to it now, and I'm not letting go.

I'ts not just a cup of coffee !!! “Coffee is lot like people” Coffee is a language in itself. In many ways, It’s Complex, Just like Humans. It’s Dark, Just like our Soul. It’s Black, Just like Grief. It’s Addictive, Just like love. It’s Pure, Just like our heart. It’s Sweet, Just like our Memories. It’s Strong yet Grind, Just like our Determination. It’s Blended, Just like our Feelings. It’s Tantalizing, Just like our Emotions. It’s Rewarding, As it is easy to Confess anything over a Cup of Coffee.

It was as if the air was fragranced with potential and the coffee flavoured with facts.

It was normal to drink two pots of coffee during an extreme night shift.

It tastes of the most bitter poison . . I've never tasted something so disgusting." - Mark Blackthorn

Kopi yang baik adalah kopi yang dengannya sanggup membangkitkan penyeduhnya untuk bisa mengingat Kekasihnya.

I USED TO make love. Now I Make coffee.

I've often wondered - where do the people who WORK at coffee shops go to meet their friends - Do they go to Conference Rooms? And if they don't meet in conference rooms, I'd like them to know I'd be willing to rent out my grandma's basement. -James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

I want coffee to taste of coffee. Maybe a little cream and sugar. I do not want coffee that tastes of potpourri or fruit or nuts or like licking the bottom of my spice drawer. And while I should not be eating donuts to begin with, I REALLY don't want to waste precious donut-related calories on Dunkin'. I'll head to the Doughnut Vault for a pistachio or coconut old fashioned, or maybe grab a Chocolate Bacon from Fritz Bakery for a real treat.

I was driven to go into book writing by the very nature of journalism and blogging. Both are ephemeral. Journalists and bloggers can have humongous egos. But in the end, what they write is really a passing show. I wanted something more lasting — a record of sorts, something people can look back to and relish again like hot, home–brewed coffee.

I went out the kitchen to make coffee - yards of coffee. Rich, strong, bitter, boiling hot, ruthless, depraved. The life blood of tired men.

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

I will wake up and make coffee for you and me before you wake up I will sit in the chair next to the bed just to look at your beautiful smiling face I love to see you when you sleep tenderly in the bed dreaming about you and me in a faraway island...

* Location: Break room. * Caffeine Dependency: Approaching twelve-step program territory.

Maybe those verses in Ezekiel about the dry bones coming back to life were actually a prophecy in reference to caffeine.

Local fog in Venice has a name: nebbia. It obliterates all reflections ... and everything that has a shape: buildings, people, colonnades, bridges, statues. Boat services are canceled, airplanes neither arrive, nor take off for weeks, stores are closed and mail ceases to litter one’s threshold. The effect is as though some raw hand had turned all those enfilades inside out and wrapped the lining around the city... the fog is thick, blinding, and immobile... this is a time for reading, for burning electricity all day long, for going easy on self-deprecating thoughts of coffee, for listening to the BBC World Service, for going to bed early. In short, a time for self-oblivion, induced by a city that has ceased to be seen. Unwittingly, you take your cue from it, especially if, like it, you’ve got company. Having failed to be born here, you at least can take some pride in sharing its invisibility...

Marry the person who gives you the same feeling you get when you take the very first sip of COFFEE in the morning!

Love doesn't go away overnight. It sometimes stays for coffee.

Mana yang lebih pahit; Kopi tanpa cumbuan gula, atau rindu yang dibiarkan gigil tanpa nama?

Me invitó a café, la nueva infusión que, procedente de Turquía, se hace cada vez más popular y causa furor en toda Europa. [...] Es un líquido intensamente negro, muy aromático, con un sabor amargo que puede ser amortiguado añadiéndole azúcar.

Mindful Monday Humans, May your coffee kick in before reality does.

Miliony lidí letos získají řidičský průkaz poté, co cvičnými jízdami strávili méně než osmnáct hodin. Než baristovi ve Starbucks svěří klíčky od přístroje na espresso, musí podstoupit školení trvající čtyřiadvacet hodin.

Most people think coffee is what wakes you up in the morning. I believe it’s actually brushing your teeth with hand lotion instead of toothpaste.

Montrose tasted the coffee. No bitterness, a blend of several beans--some of which had been grown precisely the same way for over a thousand years--and just the right temperature. If pressed, he could name the chemical makeup of the coffee and the reaction of the human body to the brew. Yet there was still an almost mystical sense of well-being that few things imparted just by smell, taste, and warmth, and coffee was one.

Most people who spend their lives are dreaming of having a summer house somewhere in the suburb of their city where they could lie in the hot sun all day long, drinking coffee and juice. They think they are enjoying life, but really they are spending life.