Best 491 quotes in «tea quotes» category

Hvis ingen anden Nytte var ved Thee og Café, var dog denne, at Drukkenskab, som tilforn gik saa meget i Svang, derved temmelig er kommen af Brug. Nu kand vore Hustruer og Døttre giøre 10 Visiter en Eftermiddag, og komme gandske ædrue tilbage.

Iced tea! Nothing is half so refreshing as a glass of black tea piled high with ice! More than a quencher of thirst, it is a tamer of tempers, a lifter of lethargy, and a brightener of smiles. It is a taste of Winter’s chill, magically trapped in midsummer’s glass.

I couldn't find my cup of tea. So probably, I've been simply taking a sip from everyone else's cup. May be it shouldn't matter as long as there is tea to drink. Or should it?

I'd much rather be someone's shot of whiskey than everyone's cup of tea.

I don't drink coffee I take tea my dear I like my toast done on one side ..." (Englishman in New York)

I'd watch her, amazed at just how much a person could accomplish fueled by tea and regret.

I drank the kehva tea greedily. It was delicious! Strands of saffron floated on top, releasing the color. It had come right out of the samovar and the brew was strong. I detected crushed cardamoms, kagzee almonds, and asked myself: why is it that places with the worst possible hygiene manage to manufacture the best possible tea?

I drink only tea. That was lovely, tea Says in a snooty accent. Even the worst Dreams release me. You love me. Death will be a morning.

if he was my cup of tea, then you are my cup of coffee.   tea simply isn’t enough for me sometimes,   but coffee can get me through anything.   - did i make you up?

I explained to him - as I withdrew the cup, ripped open the sachet and dunked the tea bag - that tea was an infusion, which meant that it was vital for the water to be actually boiling when it came into contact with the leaves. He looked at me furiously... I had behaved like this many times before: taking Canute's stance in the path of the great surge of ill-brewed tepid tea that was inundating England.

I feel like a cup of tea with no milk. I just had one. It was disgusting.

I hope you don’t mind tea in mugs,’ she said, coming in with a tray. ‘I told you I was a slut.

If life is a cup of tea, gratitude is the honey that makes it sweet.

If there’s any thing more important than tea, we must put together an expedition and hunt it down posthaste.

I grinned. "I'm anybody's for a cuppa and a biscuit.

If I only had a kettle and a cat here, she said to herself, I'd be a perfect picture of a useless old lady.

I like pouring your tea, lifting the heavy pot, and tipping it up, so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup. Or when you’re away, or at work, I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip, as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips. I like the questions – sugar? – milk? – and the answers I don’t know by heart, yet, for I see your soul in your eyes, and I forget. Jasmine, Gunpowder, Assam, Earl Grey, Ceylon, I love tea’s names. Which tea would you like? I say but it’s any tea for you, please, any time of day, as the women harvest the slopes for the sweetest leaves, on Mount Wu-Yi, and I am your lover, smitten, straining your tea. - Tea

I like tea so much that I’m considering changing my name to Bergamot so that I can exist in a perpetual state of Earl Grey contentment.

In general, I call her every night, and we talk for an hour, which is forty-five minutes of me, and fifteen minutes of her stirring her tea, which she steeps with the kind of Zen patience that would make Buddhists sit up in envy and then breathe through their envy and then move past their envy.

I love America for its bourgeois comfort. If I was as heavily in debt as they are, I wouldn't be drinking tea or coffee anywhere. I would be sipping tap water from an old bottle and serving others tea or coffee in a cafe somewhere.

"At Christmas, tea is compulsory. Relatives are optional.

In 2010, the BBC spent nearly £230,000 on tea, but only £2000 on biscuits.

In a few minutes tea was brought. Very delicate was the china, very old the plate, very thin the bread-and-butter, and very small the lumps of sugar. Sugar was evidently Mrs. Jamieson's favourite economy.

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?

I must drink lots of tea or I cannot work. Tea unleashes the potential which slumbers in the depth of my soul.

Independence Day, July 4th, or as I know it: The end of tea parties!

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.

In Ireland, you go to someone's house, and she asks you if you want a cup of tea. You say no, thank you, you're really just fine. She asks if you're sure. You say of course you're sure, really, you don't need a thing. Except they pronounce it ting. You don't need a ting. Well, she says then, I was going to get myself some anyway, so it would be no trouble. Ah, you say, well, if you were going to get yourself some, I wouldn't mind a spot of tea, at that, so long as it's no trouble and I can give you a hand in the kitchen. Then you go through the whole thing all over again until you both end up in the kitchen drinking tea and chatting. In America, someone asks you if you want a cup of tea, you say no, and then you don't get any damned tea. I liked the Irish way better.

it is to be savored like a seabreeze-whispered dream...in the mysterious blue minutes before dawn like a secret infatuation.... like slow languorous sips of green tea... like a lingering glimpse a self-wrapped paradise like his name upon my lips.

It's a long story." Zach cupped his hands around his mug. He raised it to his lips, wincing as the liquid burned his tongue. His smile reached his eyes. "That's my favorite kind," he said.

It's a lot like the Wild West out here... just with tea shops instead of saloons. Wild West Sahara, that is.

It’s all right,’ he insisted, ‘I’m perfectly well. Thought I heard, well, a noise that startled me. But it was nothing. Just overcome with the tea fumes, I expect

It's unbelievable really, the reviving power of a hot bath, a cup of tea and a roaring fire.

It was very hard to rant while accepting a cup of tea.

I was cursing and swearing at you because of that address, I hated you already because of the lies I had told you. Because I only like playing with words, only dreaming, but, do you know, what I really want is that you should all go to hell. That is what I want. I want peace; yes, I'd sell the whole world for a farthing, straight off, so long as I was left in peace. Is the world to go to pot, or am I to go without my tea? I say that the world may go to pot for me so long as I always get my tea.

I was learning, even in my brief time in England, that a cup of tea almost always helped. I didn't know whether it was the caffeine, the warmth, or the simple fact of having someone else do something kind, but a soothing cup of tea in Harriet Dalrymple's cottage was fast becoming my lifeline to sanity.

I was pleased to see that even back in the glory days of the Folly people left their mugs of tea on their magical textbooks.

I will have some tea fetched. That is your society does drink tea? Always, Irene said.

I will gladly accept any and all books, however. A person can never have too much reading material. Especially on a fall or winter evening. If you’re feeling extra generous, you may include tea. I love a unique blend.

I wonder if I should have Darjeeling tea?" West mused aloud. "No, perhaps something stronger... Ceylon or pekoe... and some of the little buns with the cream and jam... What were those, Kathleen?" "Cornish splits." "Ah. No wonder I like them. It sounds like something I once saw performed at a dance hall.

Looking out at the lake, drinking good tea. That's his only luxury. And what an enormous luxury that was.

(Malory, unhopeful: "I don't suppose you have any tea?" Jesse: "DO YOU WANT EARL GREY OR DARJEELING?" Malory: "Oh, sweet heavens!")

Mulan stared at the steaming liquid, watching the dried leaves swirl to the bottom. How beautiful the tea looked, too- she'd never seen tea so colorful. Reds and pinks swirled in with amber and blue- like the mesmerizing patterns on a butterfly.

Not tea but blood!

Între petalele unei flori, în acea tăcere parfumată frumoasă în inconștiența ei, putem descoperi inocența sufletului nostru.

I read the tea leaves as if they were words left over from a conversation between two cups.

I smile more when people think 'I am fool

Is this an 'I'm sorry I tried to assassinate you' tea ceremony?

I think just a cup of tea...' There was something to be said for tea and a comfortable chat about crematoria.

It is not a cold day, but she looks warmed by the tea. Tea has that effect on people. I love watching it bring comfort.